Mum Always Said I Couldn't Carry a Tune
by SnarkyTheClown
Summary: Hermione's gift for music entagles her in a mad quest for a powerful piece of music. Her partner in crime is one Severus Snape, who must face down a demon from his past to help Hermione save the world. Fluffy and funny, with some HGSS romance thrown in.
1. Prologue

Okay, so after quite a long time dawdling on this bit, I've finally decided to begin posting my first full-length, completely plotted S/H story. I love feedback as always, and give my usual disclaimers: I don't own anything and this was not intended to be a literary masterpiece so don't expect one. Enjoy the fluff!

Aimes

* * *

Her nerves were in overdrive. Hermione stood before her mirror in her dress and took deep breaths to calm herself. She had to be confident—there was absolutely no reason for her to doubt herself. As she stretched her hands and arms, carefully loosening the muscles in her fingers and shoulders, she remembered what her teachers had said over the years, always in quiet awe as she finished yet another exercise perfectly: amazing, unnatural, a true prodigy. Of course, that didn't really mean much to her, she reflected idly as she stretched her back muscles in preparation to sit upright for quite some time. This had nothing to do with praise, not for her. 

This was about divinity. It was about the constant struggle for perfection, for beauty, for the flawless execution of the most difficult piece and the absolute emotion evoked in others by her passion.

But perhaps it had nothing to do with others, this obsession. Perhaps it was between her and the instrument.

The instrument of her salvation.

The instrument of her damnation.

Two hours later she sat on the bench, spine erect, elbows parallel to shoulders, fingers poised. Pedals were set to their proper positions, and the large instrument rested against her right shoulder. Her placid expression gave no hint of the knot of nerves currently residing in her stomach.

The room was large and beautiful, with hardwood floors and a large chandelier in the centre. One wall was almost exclusively windows, with French doors leading out onto the huge balcony, all of which looked out over the stormy sea. There was little furniture in the room, aside from the various musical instruments placed in random intervals. Each instrument had couches or armchairs or large cushions for guests to sit upon while enjoying the music.

The room was empty aside from Hermione and three others. The three sat in richly upholstered armchairs, while Hermione seated herself erect on a cushioned cherry wood stool.

_Fingers, shoulders, spine, music._

She held her head high, eyes closed, as she let the piece fill her. Comfort settled over her; the instrument was an old friend, a lover. She had dressed nicely for this: a black, low cut dress that hugged and flared in the right places and hung down to her ankles, which were bound in high heeled sandals. The only piece of jewelry she wore was a gold chain with an intricate pendant depicting a kneeling woman playing an older version of the instrument. Her hands sped up as they caressed the strings in a dance older than history. Gentle curls tossed loosely around her shoulders as they escaped from the careful French braid she'd wrought earlier that evening.

Eyes closed, body straight, Hermione Granger stroked the harp with a precision borne of devotion. The music swept over her: Gabriel Pierne's Impromptu-Caprice in A-Flat Major for Harp, op. 9.

The group of three watched and took notes, but Hermione Granger did not notice. She was consumed by the light and life and purity of the music. Far away, a world of wonders and magic slept peacefully as she ignited an ordinary night with her passion.

She played for two hours before ceasing, spent.

The harp trailed into silence and she looked over at her audience. One of them, a distinguished German with a calm presence smiled at her.

"Superb, my dear. Truly." The others nodded in assent. The German man cleared his throat. "My official grading score is excellent. Above reproach, I believe. You played with emotion and depth, beyond being simply technically correct. It was a pleasure to experience."

He sat and the woman next to him rose. In a lilting Eastern European accent, she spoke. "My scoring also reflects excellence. I have not seen one of your talent in many years now, child. Decades, at least, perhaps longer. I'm amazed that the rumours I have heard are true." She sat, with a gesture at the last member of the panel. The most exacting and difficult member. He had been known to fail examinees on a whim, because they did not seem riveted by the piece or the music or because the smiled too much or not enough.

He stood and looked at her long and hard. She stared back, placid. She had played with her soul and it was all that could be demanded of her.

"Inspired."

He sat without further comment.

Hermione smiled.

* * *

"Oi, 'Mione, where were you all weekend?"

Ron Weasley cuffed her on the shoulder. She turned to him with an eyebrow raised. "I had some business to attend to, Ron," she said calmly. "Am I permitted to have a life separate from you?" He looked hurt and she sighed. "I was at my parents' place, Ron. Nothing special, I assure you."

Harry Potter grinned. "He forgets you have parents since they're not part of the wizarding world, 'Mione."

"They accuse me of the same thing," she replied wryly. "I'm going to be late for potions. I'll see you two later."

Hermione strolled down to the dungeons, not really very rushed, letting the sheet music run through her head. Under her breath she hummed the strains of a timeless tune. Her memory coursed through the performance two nights before as she sat at her usual bench in the potions classroom. She'd faltered imperceptibly about four minutes in with a tricky finger arrangement. A minute slowing of pace that the others had not noticed but had irritated her to no end. In harpistry more so than in any other aspect of life, Hermione demanded perfection. _Because in the music, the soul is revealed. A perfect performance should show the audience the secrets of the universe._ Hermione frowned and shook her head to herself, dispelling the old voice with the familiar Russian patterns of speech that lingered in her mind.

Snape swept in and began the class and Hermione snapped to attention, focusing on the task at hand, but letting a small portion of her brain run the music. Snape set out the instructions for the healing potion and ran through the effects with them quickly. Hermione did not raise her hand when he asked questions; she had broken herself of the habit years earlier.

In point of fact, she'd become more self-contained in many ways. She was no longer the girl with her emotions on her sleeve and her intellect plain to see but a quieter observer. The once brash courage had resolved itself into silent threads of steel. Which was not to say she was shy: she had a gift for stimulating conversations and engaging groups of people, but she was content to spark a topic and let it be discussed by everyone instead of feeling the need to dominate. Hermione was no longer bossy, she was simply a leader.

The twelve students in the Advanced Potions Practicum gathered their ingredients and got to work. No longer were they paired off, but instead did more individual work. The first half of the class was reserved for doing potions and the second half for working on their own research projects, to be presented at the end of the year. The size of the class had fostered friendships and the group used one another as sounding boards for their ideas and sources of advice in personal matters.

Snape had relaxed somewhat, happy to let the class take its own course—the less work on his part, the better. Rarely did he yell at anyone in this class, or even deduct points. Occasionally he even enjoyed the class and their animated debates. Indeed, he was content to be a silent presence, cutting in only to point out obvious stupidity or direct the flow of a potentially brilliant discussion.

The war was over and he felt no need to behave in any particular manner. Many had expected him to become more tolerable after the war and equally many expected him to become surlier. He had done neither, really. He'd simply become…different. Snape had become even more unpredictable and private in his mannerisms, though he still showed obvious favor to Slytherins. Especially since the Slytherins who remained were the ones who'd had the courage to fight back. He'd worked in close quarters with Hermione on several occasions, and had been fairly respectful each time, with only the occasional blowup. He could be almost friendly, but only one-on-one, and he tended toward silence with increasing frequency. Groups still left him icy and caustic, and the school as a whole had decided to spare him the torture of ever having to attend a Hogwarts ball again. He and Hermione were hardly confidants, but had shifted from being active enemies or nonentities to cautious acquaintances and possible friends. His relationship with Harry remained volatile but fairly stable. He'd saved Harry's life twice at the end and nearly lost his own, and Harry had returned the favor. Both of them grew up a little by the end of the war—enough to know they quite disliked one another.

Hermione gathered her ingredients and added them to the cauldron systematically and carefully. Eventually she had only to chop wolfsbane and add it to the potion and allow it to simmer. She chopped quickly, wincing slightly at her bruised fingers. Playing too long could do that, and despite years of playing she had never developed calluses to protect her fingers.

She gathered the chopped plant into the palm of her hand and lifted it toward her cauldron when someone caught her wrist. She dropped the wolfsbane with a gasp and looked up at Snape with wide, startled eyes.

"Sir?"

"Your hand has a cut on it, Miss Granger. How would your blood affect this particular potion?"

"Um, most blood would make it mildly poisonous and blood tainted by death would make it lethal," she said automatically. She remembered catching her fingers when tuning the harp and realized she must have cut them without noticing. With the adrenaline rush of playing, she probably wouldn't have noticed, and her fingers were bruised so she hadn't paid much attention to the ache.

"Correct. Mr. Zabini, will you add the final ingredient to Miss Granger's potion while we clean up her hand?" It was framed as a question, and Blaise nodded agreeably.

Hermione followed Snape into his office, where he pulled out a disinfectant and a healing accelerant, then dug in a drawer for bandages. He watched her struggle for a moment with the disinfectant before taking it from her.

"Allow me, Miss Granger. It will go infinitely faster." He wiped disinfectant on her wounds carefully and dabbed on the accelerant before wrapping them skillfully. He frowned and brought her hands closer to his face.

"Why are your fingers bruised, Miss Granger?" He caught her other hand in a gentle but firm grip and inspected her other hand. Snape looked up and raised an eyebrow at her expectantly. Hermione's momentary inner debate flickered in her eyes.

"I got a bit caught up in something and didn't call it a day when it would have been prudent," she replied mildly. "I'm a bit compulsive, if you hadn't noticed, sir."

"It's hard to miss, Miss Granger. Five points from Gryffindor for foolishness and dissembling."

"You're a spy, sir, I thought you of all people would appreciate good dissembling," she said without thinking.

"I would appreciate good dissembling," he replied scathingly. Hermione smiled faintly.

"Point taken, sir."

"Indeed. Feel free to get back to work at any time, Miss Granger."

Hermione returned to her potion, which Blaise relinquished with a smile. He sat on her bench and proceeded to grill her for suggestions on his thesis project. Hermione smiled as she threw out ideas and soon others were adding their thoughts till it was time to leave.

Hermione bottled her potion and left it on her workbench. She tossed her materials into her bag and caught up with Blaise as she left the class, chatting amiably with him as they departed.


	2. Chapter 1

IT's a two for one special! Prologue AND first chapter! Feel free to hit the review button!

Aimes

* * *

Severus Snape reclined and let his mind shift gears. The necklace Granger had been wearing was the one, he was fairly sure of it. When he'd caught her hands he'd gotten a good look at the pendant and it was unmistakable. He thought back to the incident a few months ago: he'd been wandering the streets of London in the dead of night as he was wont to do over winter break, and he'd heard it. The most beautiful music he'd ever imagined. It seemed to pierce into him and fill him with peace. Sharp and sweet and perfect. 

He'd pulled his coat tighter round himself and followed the sound. He tracked it to a small apartment tucked away on a side street. Blending with the shadows, he approached the window lit by candlelight.

A beautiful woman with blond hair and green eyes dominated the instrument, manipulating it to her will. The harp bowed beneath her touch and she played with precision and confidence. The piece was finished within moments and she picked up a wrinkled photo. Even from where he stood, Snape could see it was a platinum pendant of a woman kneeling and playing an ancient harp. His eyes narrowed for a moment as he spied a similar pendant on the blond girl. Hers was gold, but the detailing was the same: delicate and exact. The girl replaced the photo and stood, stretching. Enchanting, Snape realized, was the only way to describe her. Her bearing was aristocratic and graceful and her expression was sweet and kind. He felt an unfamiliar tug in his stomach. The girl picked up a cat and began dancing around the room.

"Soon I'll have it, Ravel! I can feel it! This time, I'll be selected to receive it." She laughed and blew out the candles next to the music stand. "Goodnight, Ravel. Soon we'll be home again."

She disappeared into another room. Snape remained, thoughtful and curious. After awhile he too disappeared. He returned to the large penthouse apartment he kept in central London and for the first time in years, slept the whole night through. One loose end found.

Now he was back at Hogwarts and back to his insomnia. His brow furrowed as he thought about the woman. He'd never seen her again, though he thought about her on occasion. Well, more than on occasion. He thought about her at least once a day, and though he'd searched for her since, she was nowhere to be found. But now, he realized, he might have a link. The pendant had held significance for the woman and he sensed it held significance for Granger as well. Questioning the girl might lead him back to the woman who haunted him, but she'd wonder why he was asking questions. For the first time, he actively evaluated his opinion of Hermione Granger.

She was smart enough, no doubt. Naturally intelligent as well as obsessively hardworking. She'd matured in recent years into a vivacious young woman who was well-liked and highly respected. She was one of the few people he could tolerate and he actually preferred working with her over nearly anyone else. When they'd worked together for several projects during the war, she had treated him with a quiet respect that he had found himself willingly returning. When he got angry and his tongue grew acid, she matched him insult for insult without losing even a particle of the respect she held for him, and when he pulled himself under control, she responded in kind, never mentioning his ill temper. Overall, he had to admit he rather liked her if forced to give an opinion.

He was not, however, at all inclined to involve her in his personal life. Or demons. Snape sighed as the last students of his next class trickled in, and switched back into teaching mode.

* * *

An Hour Later:

"Sir?"

"Yes, Mr. Creevey?" Snape sighed. The Creevey brothers annoyed the hell out of him in general. There was simply no reason to be that bloody cheery all the damned time. And the sight of that damned camera was enough to push a man over the edge.

"Headmaster Dumbledore asked me to give this to you, sir," the boy replied, handing him a folded piece of paper. Snape waved him back to his seat as he opened the letter. He scanned it quickly and raised an eyebrow.

"Class is cancelled. Go back to your common rooms," he ordered. The students scrambled to obey, whispering excitedly. Snape ignored them as he swept out. He strode quickly through the halls toward the headmaster's office, barely noticing the sea of students that parted before him. His eyes narrowed as he struggled to remember Dumbledore's new password.

"Bloody hell, that man's obsession with confections will be the death of me," he mumbled irritably.

"Chocolate toffee," a voice said behind him. He turned halfway to see Hermione Granger stopped in the hallway, glancing down at a notebook as she spoke. She looked up and shrugged, a slight smile on her face. "I can never remember either. Good day, Professor." Her eyes flickered momentarily to the stairway beginning to rise behind him and she smiled again as she proceeded on her way. Frowning, Snape stepped onto the stairway without further ado, not wanting to walk up any of the stairs.

"Hello Severus. Tea?" Dumbledore offered.

"No, thank you Albus. You summoned me?"

"Yes, my boy. As you know, some of the surviving Death Eaters remain active. I have recently learned that Regina de la Gris has resurfaced. You told me that she had disappeared after Voldemort sent her to find the Cord of Dreams and she never returned."

"I've heard," Snape replied mildly. "My sources indicate she may have found something, though no one really knows what it is."

He pulled out the last picture of Regina de la Gris, a strikingly beautiful blonde with deep green eyes and a sweet expression that hid a sour and acidic centre.

"I saw her in London a few months ago and began making inquiries. I must say, I'd rather hoped she was dead." He flinched slightly, remembering the details of her background. "Sorry."

"It's quite alright," Dumbledore said seriously. "During the first war, Regina committed some of the worst atrocities I've seen before or since. When she was not present for the majority of the second…we all drew conclusions. They were obviously incorrect."

"Well when Voldemort's lover isn't around for his final attempt at resurrection and domination one tends to assume it's because she's dead," Snape replied sardonically.

"Yes," Dumbledore said heavily. "Regina was my greatest disappointment. Still is, I suppose," Dumbledore sighed.

"She's your daughter, Albus, but she made choices. We all did. Some of them were brilliant and others were colossally idiotic. Take it from someone who made some of the stupidest decisions in the wizarding world. Regina chose to be who she is and she had that right." He smiled wryly. "No one said that she had to fight on the side of light just because she is your daughter."

"Yes, but it weighs rather heavily when your only child ends up being a monster."

"We are all your children, Albus," Severus noted as he rose to leave. "She just happens to share your genes."

He left to let the old man ponder silently on that thought as he began to plan his course of action.

* * *

Several Hours Later:

The halls of the school were silent and she drifted through them like a wraith till she found what she was seeking. The door was incongruous in the cluttered baroque hallway, and she focused for a moment before turning the handle and stepping inside. Her distraction made her slightly careless, and she failed to check that she was alone before entering, never noticing the dark form leaning against a wall in the shadows several feet away. He did not follow her in immediately but listened carefully for several moments, brow furrowed, before nodding to himself and proceeding on his way.

Within the room, Hermione stretched for a few moments before sitting at the harp and running through scales with lightning speed. After that informal warm up, she paused, centered herself and began again, hands moving delicately. Sheet music appeared before her and she began reading the notes and flowing with them, allowing her fingers to dance on the strings with delight or weigh heavy with gloom.

The music carried her and she ignored the ache of her bruised fingers and tired shoulder. The heavy instrument rested against her and she played on.

Minutes passed, then hours, and finally she ceased to play.

Clapping came from a corner of the room. Hermione nearly fell over, startled and shot to a standing position. She turned to see Severus Snape watching her from a corner. He tossed her a bottle silently and she caught it with ease.

"It will stop your fingers from bruising further."

She made no move to open the bottle but raised an eyebrow.

He shrugged and turned toward the door.

"How did you get in here?"

"I opened the door. You were too involved to notice my entrance."

"Why were you watching me?" she asked curiously.

"Because I could."

She nodded once in response and uncorked the bottle, massaging it into her fingers with a sigh of relief.

"You should get more sleep. Your late nights are starting to show." He approached her and she saw his eyes were fixed on her necklace. When he was close enough, he reached out to gently pull the gold chain out from where she had tucked it inside her sweater. Snape examined the pendant and his eyes narrowed slightly as he read the inscription.

"Within the music lies the sanctuary of the soul," Hermione said aloud. He looked at her, fixing her with his dark eyes. "The greatest music teacher I ever had told me that, once. It stuck with me."

Snape let the chain fall and left without further comment. Hermione furrowed her brow. An odd exchange, no doubt. She glanced at a mirror and saw her sunken eyes and dull skin. The late nights really were getting to her, she realized—her knuckles were bruised from martial arts practice sessions on a suspended bag, and her fingers and shoulders ached from playing, but she needed to calm herself and keep her sanity as she awaited the final report of the judges.

The decision would come within the week.


	3. Chapter 2

Okay, long-winded-author's note time:  
Super-quick reviewer was Hand3. I know you changed your screen name but you'll always be hand3 to me!SelenityPotter: I'm glad you like it so far, I'll update regularly, I promise. MooMoo-Sama: Yep, the harp is a tough cookie to crack, but at least it sounds pretty when you mess up—take it from someone who knows! I'm not so sure how 'Phantom' this is going to be…I'm generally a humorous author. I hope you enjoy it anyways!  
Cyrano (aka Yoda): Read on, my child, and all questions will be answered in due time.  
Matches: I based the judges off of three of my harp teachers. I hadn't even noticed the American Idol similarity…although I assure you that all three teachers were always prepared to tell me that a piece sucked (and then make me play it twenty times till they were satisfied). I'm in the market for a harp teacher that blindly praises everything I play…think Paula's got any suggestions?  
Draccy: this and the sequel to Normal (two more chapters!) that will go up after this should improve your summer somewhat. I know your reviews will improve _my_ summer!  
Okay, as always, this is not a literary masterpiece so don't go in expecting one, and rest assured that I still own nothing. Although my mom just bought me a really cool red leather jacket for my birthday, so maybe I own that.Review, please!

Oh, yeah, this chapter goes into left field a bit and doesn't really fit with the story at all, but I included it anyways. Writer's prerogative. Don't waste time telling me how it doesn't flow with the rest of the story; I already know but just don't care.

Aimes

* * *

The week was a blur for Snape. He went through classes automatically, trying to plan a strategy to take on Regina de la Gris. Just thinking about her was enough to make him sigh. On Thursday morning, Dumbledore summoned him once more. Brow furrowed irritably, he proceeded to the Headmaster's office quickly, nearly running into Hermione as she stepped off the stairs.

"Sorry, sir," she apologized quietly as she shifted her bag uncomfortably on her still bruised shoulder. She'd continued her intense practice sessions to relieve tension, alternating music with martial arts to keep her mind occupied in the small hours of the night.

"Miss Granger, if you do not stop working yourself to the point of exhaustion, I shall be forced to spike your pumpkin juice with a sedative," he growled. "Go take a nap immediately."

"I have class—"

"Are you questioning me, Hermione?" He raised an eyebrow. Hermione stiffened for a moment, studying him intently.

"No sir," she replied in a low voice. He rarely used her given name and when he did she took him seriously. However she had no intention of missing class because he thought she was tired. Then again…he had a tendency to drug her when she worked herself to the point of exhaustion and stare at her with an amused expression when she tried to yell at him for it. And the smirk he gave her when she tried to calmly explain to him why he shouldn't go about drugging other people was damned insufferable.

"I shall inform your professor that you missed class doing an errand for me," he allowed grudgingly. "Just go sleep."

"Yes sir," Hermione said with obvious relief. "Thank you, sir." He waved a hand dismissively as he stepped on the stairs to Dumbledore's office. The stairs stopped at the top and he stepped out.

"Albus?" he called out.

"Severus," Dumbledore greeted, coming down from his private chambers. "There is a matter of some importance for us to discuss."

"Funny how all the matters of great importance happen at once," Snape noted dryly.

"This is to be your Hogsmeade chaperoning weekend," Dumbledore reminded him.

"So? Tell the others I'm hunting Deatheaters."

"I would have, but it was Minerva who faced me down first…and I crumbled. Regina looks so much like her," Dumbledore sounded his age, for once.

"So what did you tell her?" Snape asked suspiciously.

"That you agreed to aid in a special seminar we're holding tomorrow on hand-to-hand combat techniques," Dumbledore replied a bit sheepishly. "And that I gave you the weekend off in return. I do apologize Severus."

"Of course you do," Snape grumbled. "How long has this seminar been planned?"

"It was suggested at the beginning of the year. I hadn't given much thought to who would teach it, but you _are_ the only qualified professor, Severus. Minerva's hand-to-hand combat techniques require a cane." His eyes twinkled briefly.

Snape did not smile. "So am I teaching the blasted thing?"

"No, no, one of the students happens to have experience in Muggle martial arts and has graciously agreed to do the demonstration. Madam Hooch will do the lecture. You are simply to help where needed, serving as a partner to the student."

"Which student?"

"Ah, they asked that I keep it private. I did not inform the student who would be their partner. I thought it only fair that you both be on even territory."

"How nice of you to consider fairness," Snape said sarcastically. He sighed for the second time in an hour. "When and where should I show up?"

"In the Great Hall at ten o'clock a.m. The demonstration is for seventh-years only and attendance is optional."  
"Naturally. Whose idea was this?"

"It was Remus' idea, and a splendid one at that!" Dumbledore beamed. "It is important to know how to handle a situation in which you have lost your wand!"

"It probably would have been a bit more relevant before the war ended," Snape mumbled as he left.

Snape returned to his quarters, glad that the class he'd dismissed was his last. For a fleeting moment he thought of Hermione Granger and her obvious exhaustion and he frowned. She was definitely obsessive about her work. He sighed as he began to grade papers, knowing that the weekend would be an unequivocally bad one.

Ten a.m., Friday.

She stretched once more and shifted her shirt. She was dressed in black from head to toe; hot pink hair in a long thick braid down her back. A mask covered her face, leaving only her eyes exposed. She'd dyed her eyebrows pink as well, just in case. It would have annoyed her to no end to be harassed about the seminar later; better that no one know she'd participated. She tugged on black gloves and stepped into the Hall. It had been emptied and there were sets of mats in the middle of the room. The seventh-year students who had chosen to come—mainly boys but a considerable number of girls as well—grew silent. It seemed that most of the seventh-year class had turned out. She walked across the room toward them without comment and bowed. A moment later she turned and bowed to the man she assumed to be her sparring partner. He was taller than she, but similarly covered in head to toe black with a mask. His hair was tied back with a black silk ribbon, and streaks of lightning blue ran through it. He walked toward her and bowed to the room before turning to her and waiting. Hermione assumed he'd lengthened his hair before adding the streaks.

Hermione relaxed and assumed a fighting stance, which Snape matched: a classic jiu-jitsu starting position. She wondered who he was for a brief moment before deciding she didn't particularly care. She'd done a fair trade with Dumbledore: if she did the seminar, he would give her a free weekend to take care of personal matters.

"Begin." Her voice was neutral and low, unrecognizable as Hermione Granger with the mask distorting it.

He made first contact, darting forward for a grab, which she deflected. From there they began to shift between styles fluidly, trying to match one another to keep it cohesive, but focusing on the fight. She lunged in a kung-fu move and he caught her arm, twisting and flipping her. She landed hard on her back and her eyes flashed up at him. Snape moved to finish the series by locking his leg and bringing it straight down, heel first toward her chest. The seventh-years gasped, but Hermione merely caught the leg and yanked diagonally, throwing him halfway across the room. They were both on their feet in seconds. He favored his right leg slightly before straightening. The tiniest of bows and they had begun again.

"I wonder where she is," Harry whispered to Ron in the audience.

"Probably in the library studying as usual. Too bad, she's missing out on an awesome show!" Ron was enraptured. "I wonder if they're students here…or maybe faculty?"

Harry snorted. "Sure, the girl's McGonagall and the guy's Snape." He gave Ron a sarcastic glance and Ron shrugged.

"You're probably right," he agreed. "If anyone here could do that sort of thing, we'd know about it by now."

On the floor, Hermione narrowly dodged a punch that whistled past her ear, only to catch a solid fist in the gut. "Ibni sharmuta," she spat, sliding into a crouch. Her leg shot out to drop him and she moved back quickly to catch her breath, ribs aching.

"Language," her partner chided softly as he got to his feet, limping slightly from her earlier throw. Snape's voice was soft and amused, and Hermione could not place it. She decided that his voice was probably distorted by the mask as well.

"Malish," she replied wryly, snapping out a harsh kick in the Muay Thai style. He deflected it and moved in for an upper cut which she brushed away. They were in close quarters and switched styles almost unconsciously. He began forcing her to back up and they sped up their moves noticeably, striking and deflecting through pure instinct. The students were cheering loudly but the pair barely noticed. Snape lashed out with a back fist that Hermione ducked and twisted away from. She took a kidney shot that had opened up, following it with a sweep to the leg she'd caught earlier. Snape doubled over gasping and shoved her away from him, thrown off balance but not felled by the sweep. Neither of them noticed the window till Hermione had crashed into it. He straightened despite the pain and caught her hand before she fell, pulling her roughly back inside but overbalancing in the process. Hermione fell against him and they landed in a heap on the floor.

"Khalas," Hermione groaned. "I think I've got glass in my backside." Snape sat up a bit to look.

"No, but there's a considerable amount in your back," he responded before falling back. She half-laughed, painfully. The crowd was beginning to rumble, and Hermione and Snape hauled themselves to their feet, leaning on one another, before bowing to the crowd and each other. They exited silently, both standing tall despite being slightly bloody.

When they made it outside the Great Hall, Hermione slumped against the wall. Snape turned and watched her silently. "Sorry," she grunted. "Just need a second." Her eyebrow rose as she heard Madam Hooch begin talking. "I'd love to know what she's saying to them after our little display."

He came to her and slid an arm carefully around her waist, supporting her. He slipped his fingers into her belt loops to avoid pressing on any injuries. "Infirmary," he said softly, firmly.

"Oh, no, I think not," she shot back. "You think I want everyone in this bloody school knowing who I am? I'd like to avoid drawing quite that much attention to myself, thanks. I'll take care of this on my own." She pulled away from him but his arm tightened.

"Understandable," he admitted. "I'll handle it, then. Last I checked you can't pull glass out of your own back."

Hermione sighed and nodded. "Where should we go?"

"Follow me," he replied mildly. He pressed on a section of the wall, revealing steps downward. They proceeded carefully, with Snape attempting to take pressure off his damaged knee. They ended up in a dead end. Hermione furrowed her brow, but Snape simply murmured something and the wall disappeared. They entered a large sitting room with a fire burning cheerfully. The décor was mainly black leather, with several more colorful pieces splashed in various places. Hermione took a moment to admire a framed copy of Raphael's 'School of Athens', while Snape grabbed supplies.

"Where are we?" she asked curiously

"Sit on the ottoman," he directed, ignoring her question, "and lean forward a bit if you can." She did as he asked, and he carefully cut away her shirt, leaving her torso clad only in her sports bra.

"Hey, I liked that shirt," she protested jokingly.

"Don't laugh," he warned shortly. "It'll hurt like hell." Hermione stilled herself.

"Good thing it's warm in here. Shivering would probably hurt like hell too," she said wryly.

Snape sat on the armchair behind her and gently rinsed her back with a disinfecting potion laced with a local anesthetic.

"This is going to be incredibly painful despite the anesthetic," he told her honestly. "Feel free to scream in agonizing pain, I won't think less of you."

"I'll keep that in mind," she replied, gasping as he pulled the first sliver of glass out of her back. "Isn't there some sort of magic that would be easier?"

"I'm sure if there is, Madam Pomfrey knows it. I, however, am not a trained healer. Thus we're doing it the old-fashioned way." He carefully, gently removed a large piece of glass embedded in one of her muscles and she released a guttural groan. "Care to rethink your position on the infirmary?"

"No," she growled. "Just keep going."

An hour or so later, he'd finished pulling the glass out and was casting healing spells on the wounds. She sighed in relief and her muscles began to relax.

"It's sad that a healing spell feels this good." He did not reply, but took a muscle relaxing cream and began to rub it in to the muscles that were obviously knotted, focusing on those that had been pierced by glass. She groaned and leaned backwards against his legs, her respiration slowing and her eyes drifting shut. He massaged the cream into her neck and shoulders, eliciting a soft moan from her. Her head slumped forward slightly as he worked out a knot. He noticed a fading bruise on her right shoulder and frowned slightly. It had not happened today. For the first time he began to wonder who she was as more than a passing thought. He had his suspicions, but… The cloth mask completely covered the front of her face but for her eyes, much like his did. It laced tightly at the back of her head, revealing only her hair. He could only assume that hot pink was not its natural color. He had streaked his own raven hair with electric blue, using a cosmetic spell, just to lower the odds of recognition. He'd made his irises a similar color, though he could feel the spell beginning to wear off. The spell that masked his unmistakable voice, making it bland and average, had already dissipated.

Hermione shifted and inadvertently pushed against his knee. Snape grunted in pain, hands gripping her shoulders reflexively. Her eyes shot opened and she turned to look at him.

"Shit, your knee's swollen to twice its size! Why didn't you tell me?" She shot him a glare as she pulled out her wand and began murmuring healing spells. The knee relaxed and began to reduce in size. She grabbed the cream he'd been using on her and knelt in front of him, rolling up his pant leg. Her fingers worked the cream into the muscles surrounding his knee, focusing on tension points. Snape slumped backward in his armchair and closed his eyes.

Hermione paused for a moment to check her watch and Snape opened his eyes to look at her. She glanced up at him and stiffened. "You were masking your eye color." Her eyes crinkled at the corners. "Wish I'd thought of it." Hermione stood. "I've got to go or risk being missed. Thank you for helping me."

Snape stood as well, and they were inches apart. She watched him curiously. Slowly, giving her time to move away if she wished, he reached behind her head and unlaced the mask. As it fell away, he nodded. "I thought so. Rather full of surprises, aren't you, Miss Granger?"

"The same could be said of you," she countered, raising an eyebrow as his normal voice washed over her.

"Granted," he replied, inclining his head slightly.

"Good day, Professor," she murmured. "Thank you again." She turned to leave.

"Miss Granger," he called after her. She turned and he held up one of his own black button down shirts and a robe. She smiled wryly, looking down at her half naked torso and caught them in midair. The sports bra covered mostly everything but the bare midriff would probably create a bit of a stir.

"Thanks," she laughed. She shrugged into the shirt, buttoning it as she left. He watched her go, lips half-quirked in a bemused smile. He quashed the smile as soon as he realized it was on his face.


	4. Chapter 3

Only two reviewers, so this will be a short A/N... Draccy was my super-quick reviewer. SelenityPotter, I'm very excited that you're enjoying this story! Thanks for your reviews. I was going to hold out for more, but decided to give up and just post the next chapter for my two reviewers. This one's a bit short (okay, it's very short)...think of it as a transition chapter. The next one's longer, I promise.  
Still don't own anything 'cept that jacket. Please read and review!

Aimes (who's just a tiny bit put out that only two loyal readers gave her reviews...okay, I'm being a brat now; I'll stop)

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Hermione returned to her room and cast a quick spell to make her hair and eyebrows brown once more. She changed quickly into jeans and a fitted t-shirt, pulling a black blazer over it. Moments after she'd finished pulling on her boots, there was a knock on the door. She grabbed a book, flipping it open to a random page, and settled on the bed.

"Come in," she called. Harry and Ron entered and sat on her bed excitedly.

"Wow, 'Mione, you won't believe what you missed!" Ron exclaimed. "There was a guy and a girl and they were doing moves that were unreal!"

"It was really awesome," Harry agreed. "He almost threw her through a window! They were unbelievably good."

"Who was better?" she asked curiously.

"I dunno really," Ron said thoughtfully. He looked at Harry, brow furrowed.

"I think they were pretty equally matched. I mean, they weren't trying to kill each other, so you can't really say who was better, can you? In any case, you should've come."

"Well, I've watched enough of those annoying kung-fu movies with my dad to know that it probably wouldn't interest me," Hermione said with a smile.

"Nothing athletic ever does," Ron pointed out. "So what are you doing this weekend? It's a Hogsmeade weekend…you're going, right?"

"No, actually, there are some things I need to finish here. I'll try to Apparate over and meet you at some point, okay?"

"You work too hard, 'Mione," Harry argued. "Take some time off."

"It's not work I'm finishing," she said with a laugh. "I'm meeting with an old friend to discuss music. My harp needs to be re-strung."

"I forgot you even played an instrument," Ron said. "You never talk about it."

"It's been awhile since I really played. But it's nice to keep the harp in good condition. You never know when the urge will strike." She grinned.

"How long have you played it, anyways? You never even mentioned it until last year," Ron noted.

"Oh I started when I was a kid. I never took to it though. Not even worth mentioning," she said lightly.

Ron snorted. "Figures you'd fail to mention the one thing you _don't_ excel at."

"I can't fly either," she pointed out. All three of them laughed at this.

"Well, we'll see you later then," Harry said quietly. "We're skipping lunch and leaving right now. Have fun, 'Mione."

They both gave her a quick kiss on the cheek before leaving, shutting the door behind them. Hermione waited till she no longer heard their voices and stood quickly. She grabbed her bag, which she'd shoved under the bed and put it on her bed. She would leave at lunch, when no one would be in the halls. Her mind touched on her conversation with Ron and Harry.

"Well it wasn't a _total_ lie," she mumbled. "After all, until we discovered the Room of Requirement in our fifth year, I really hadn't played in awhile. Wallet, keys, makeup, notebook," she muttered to herself, checking the items in her bag. She slung it over her shoulder and checked the clock. Everyone should be either in Hogsmeade or at lunch by now. Her eyes flickered slightly as she thought of the meeting she had at three o'clock.

Norman Leaver had not contacted her in nearly three years so the request for a late lunch meeting had come as a surprise. She'd cleared it with Dumbledore as a personal request on Thursday, in return for conducting the demonstration with Snape.

Hermione glanced over at her bed, where Snape's shirt and robe were carefully folded. The shirt had been soft linen, and the robe lined with satin. She probably would not have pegged him as a sensualist but then she did recall him having exacting tastes and well-developed sense of refinement. The shirt had been clean and smelled like soap, but the faint scent of sage and cedarwood clung to the robe. She frowned to herself and halted the train of thought, deciding it was time to go.

Hermione left her room silently and proceeded carefully and surreptitiously to the edge of the grounds, where she Disapparated with a crack, appearing in her parents' living room in London. They were away for the weekend, as usual. Neither of them had been much of a presence in Hermione's life, and she had more or less raised herself while at the same time pushing herself to excellence just to grab their attention and make them proud. After the war, however, she'd begun to realize that excellence was something she needed to do for herself and no one else, just as she had always done in music.

In any case, she felt free to come and go as she wished and use the house when it suited her. She'd long ago put most of her possessions into storage on the pretense of 'clearing up space' but mainly because the thought of her parents snooping into her things annoyed her to no end.

She left the house, locking it behind her, and mounted the motorcycle she'd bought years ago. It was a slightly beaten up Ducati but it ran like a dream and she'd been happy for any sort of transport. Freedom, she'd discovered, was a valuable commodity when she visited her parents. Especially when one was not permitted to use their magic. Within twenty minutes she'd arrived at the café they'd agreed upon. Her eyes narrowed as she spied Norman at a table in the corner, and she strode over to sit down.

"Hello Norman," she greeted.

"Hi, Hermione!" He exclaimed. "How are you? I like the hair!"

"Doing fairly well, thanks. I thought you were searching for treasure off the coast of Africa."

"I was in town and decided to come see you." Norman settled back into his chair. He was small and stocky, with blond hair, blue eyes, and perpetual schemes.

"You heard I'm up for the Eternal Harpist," she corrected. "So you decided to sell me a treasure-hunting adventure."

"You'd be rich, Hermione," he promised.

"I said no when I received the other Harpists, why would I say yes now?" she sighed. That was how they'd met: he'd approached her with a treasure-hunting proposal when she'd been given the Silver Harpist. Though she'd refused flat out, they had struck up an odd sort of friendship. And based on what she'd learned when researching the pendants, Norman was definitely out of his league. Powerful magic and Muggles never mixed.

"Because you can go for broke this time and get the Dream," he replied, nearly salivating.

"There's not even any guarantee that I'll be awarded the Harpist," she noted. "Other musicians were up for it."

"Get off it, Hermione. You're practically a legend in the field. A prodigy. It was never a matter of whether you'd get it but when you'd decide to go for it. Besides, the only other person up for it was Gina Gray, and she's a novice compared to you. Check your mailbox—you have a letter asking if you want a formal ceremony to receive it. Come on, Hermione, only a musician with an Eternal pendant can access the temple complex where the Dream is kept."

"Only a musician with an Eternal pendant could use the Dream. Look, Norman, I don't want the Chord of Dreams. I never have. I never will. I suggest you wait for someone as money grubbing as yourself to get an Eternal pendant or steal it from someone."

"You and I both know that you can't steal the pendant. Only its owner can use it," he said glumly. "There must be some sort of DNA lock on it."

"Maybe it's magic," she teased. "I have to go…I'll think about it. Good luck." She shook his hand and exited the café. Her brow was furrowed slightly as she mounted the Ducati once more, pulling on her helmet and taking off. She'd known Gina Gray was up for the Harpist, but for Norman to have mentioned her meant that he'd approached her. Hermione worried that if she had not been selected to receive the amulet, the two Muggles might choose to seek it on their own. Then it became a matter of damage control…she began to wonder if she should ask for help from Dumbledore or another professor. But the time it would take to explain everything would be time lost, and if Gina received the Harpist, she and Norman would be gone by sunset.

With these worrisome thoughts swirling through her head, Hermione went to the post office. Once there, she took a deep breath and checked her box. A single letter rested within, written on expensive stationery.

_**Miss Hermione Granger:**_

**_It is my pleasure to inform you that you have been selected as the recipient of the Eternal Harpist. You are the youngest examinee ever selected. Vasili would have been proud. I hope you believe me when I say that your talent and grace were inspiring to behold. The harpist has been created and inscribed. It is our wish that you receive it in a formal ceremony, however that will be your choice. Please call me at your convenience._**

_**--Antonin Leoretti**_

Hermione smiled as she re-read it. Leoretti had been the difficult examiner. Relief suffused her and her grin became positively silly as she used her cell phone to call the contact number he'd provided.

"Hello? This is Hermione Granger." She laughed easily as she arranged for a small informal wine gathering at the studio where she'd played for him.

"Tonight is perfect, Signor Leoretti. Ah, I'm the last to RSVP? And here I thought that I was the reason for the party, not an excuse to hold one," she teased. "No, no, tonight really is fine. Thank you so much." Hermione closed her cell phone and walked out with a bounce in her step, never noticing the blonde girl watching her with narrowed green eyes.

At six thirty p.m., Hermione exited her parents' house, wearing a black dress that swirled around her curves and stopped several inches above the knee. The dress was a classic cut—lucky, since it was one she'd bought two years ago. Then again, she doubted there would be too many fashion mavens in attendance, and the dress was flattering. She'd opted to go without jewelry and had pinned her hair up, not bothering with the curls that escaped. She had not bothered to change her hair color, and her toenails and fingernails were painted to match. Her makeup was subtle and attractive, and she walked with confidence in four-inch heels. The cab she'd ordered idled at the curb and she got in gracefully before giving the address and settling back. The cabbie did his best not to stare too much in the rearview mirror but she was paying him no mind in any case. They arrived at her destination within twenty minutes, and she tipped him handsomely before proceeding inside. He took a moment to watch her backside as she walked away before hitting the gas.

The house was as large as she recalled from her examination but now it seemed cheerier and more welcoming. The grounds were large and well-tended and the house itself was about three stories tall. She could hear the faint strains of music coming from within and the windows glowed brightly as she proceeded up the stone walkway.

Taking a deep breath and smiling widely, Hermione strode inside, vaguely noting that the music had ended.

She stopped short at the sight of Severus Snape, standing silently in a corner observing the room.


	5. Chapter 4

Y'know, it's funny: I really didn't consider last chapter a cliffhanger. Probably because I know what happens, right? In any case, sorry for leaving you hanging.  
In terms of the confusion on everyone's parts, I admit I usually explain things earlier, but don't worry: it all comes together in this chapter and the next. They will be very information dense in terms of Hermione and Severus explaining to one another (and consequently, to you) what they know. It's all smooth sailing from there! And if it isn't, I'll fix it according to your reviews…  
Time for another long A/N: SelenityPotter was my super-quick reviewer. You're a sweetie and I'm sorry it took me so long to post this chapter…I'll quit with the cliffhangers (if I realize I'm doing it!)  
MooMoo-Sama: Have I mentioned that I love your screen name? Anyways, I really didn't notice the shirt issue because I actually own some men's shirts from when I lived in Egypt. The other explanation is that people will notice half-nakedness long before they notice over-clothed-ness. (Heh, did that sound halfway valid? We all know that it just never occurred to me that she was wearing a man's shirt…)  
AveryGoodun: thanks for the review! I'm glad you're enjoying the pacing and style!  
Draccy: Iowa hasn't made the news yet, but here's another chapter anyways! Lol, I typed your real name first before I realized that you might not want me revealing your name to the handful of people that read my stories. That's how internet stalking starts… :-)  
TaintedAngels: Thank you for the lovely compliment! If you enjoy the harp, I can recommend some great recordings…just email me. Some of them are recordings of friends of mine in which case I can just send you the files.Shin-Tari: As stated above, I really didn't realize that it was a cliff-hanger. Sorry 'bout that.  
SlytherinsDarkAngel07: Evil cliffie is henceforth resolved:)  
Hand3, Lil, it wouldn't be a fanfic without you guys and Draccy reviewing. (Where, oh where is Hippiechick?)

I own nothing other than the boots I just bought to go with my new jacket.

Aimes

Extra note: Draccy's the freaking coolest fanfic fangirl EVER. She made a website for my fics! How cool is that? She rocks my socks. I'm so excited!

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Hermione proceeded with a neutral expression, plucking a glass of white wine from a tray. Leoretti ambushed her first, making small talk, but music began to play again and she excused herself while he was distracted. Hermione worked her way toward Snape gracefully but with single-minded determination. She quickly drank the rest of the wine and set the glass on a side table before reaching him.

Snape was surveying the room, looking for Regina. The moment he'd found out about this soiree from a contact in London, he'd known she'd show up and try to take the necklace. He wasn't sure why she wanted it, but he was confident in her obsession with it—he'd recognized the spark in her eyes when he had watched her through her window. If he was right, the information was worth the significant amount of money he'd paid for it. Snape had not been lying when he told Dumbledore that he had feelers out. The going price for info on her from any of his contacts was twice what he normally paid them with a bonus if the information was useful. Learning that Hermione Granger was receiving the necklace had been a bit of a surprise, but he wryly admitted to himself that nothing about Hermione should surprise him at this point. So far, however, he hadn't seen either of the women. He was startled when a soft voice asked him to dance, and he was on the floor before he knew what was going on. He looked down and saw hot pink hair pinned up in a French twist.

"Miss Granger."

"Professor," she replied, looking up at him now. Even with the heels he had an inch or so on her. At five feet, eight inches, the heels took her solidly to six feet. Snape was around six-one or six-two, she realized. She'd never noticed how tall he really was; beyond the fact that he was taller than her and tended to loom, she'd never paid it any mind. His hair was back to its usual black, as were his eyes, which were currently fixed on hers.

"Funny, I was under the impression that Hogsmeade was a good several hours away," he murmured, turning her as they waltzed. He decided that it was better that she was with him: Regina might try to take the necklace before Hermione received it but that was unlikely.

"How astute. I have permission from the Headmaster to be here, I assure you. Interesting, though, that this was your weekend to chaperone if I'm not mistaken." She raised an eyebrow, following his lead gracefully as they danced.

"It was indeed, but I escaped that torture by participating in the…demonstration this morning." He caught a flash of blonde hair and stiffened.

"Gina Gray," Hermione said softly. He looked down at her with a curious expression. "She's been trying for the Eternal Harpist for years. Or so I'm told. I thought she'd be pretty pissed that I got it on the first try, but…" Hermione shrugged. "She smiled at me outside and followed me when I came in."

"I don't think that was a friendly smile," he said grimly, scanning the room once more as he guided her gently, one hand on her hip, the other holding her hand. "Regina de la Gris doesn't have friendly smiles."

"Ex-girlfriend?" she asked, curiously. He glanced down at her but didn't reply. Hermione's mind raced, calculating all the reasons he might be here. Perhaps he already knew about the Chord and shared similar concerns that Gina might have received the Harpist. She was about to reassure him that there was no problem when she saw Leoretti gesture toward her.

The song ended and they separated. "I'm off to receive my award," she murmured as she pulled away from him. Hermione walked toward Iliana Postrov and Antonin Leoretti. Snape watched her for a moment before spotting Regina once more. Regina made eye contact and winked. Snape stiffened slightly and his senses heightened as he tried to anticipate what she would do. Grab it as Hermione left? No, that was too subtle for Regina.

Iliana was handing Hermione a velvet box, and Leoretti had his arm around her. Hermione smiled and thanked them, bowing slightly. She turned and Snape saw the blitz attack coming.

"Granger! Down!" Hermione dropped to the floor instantly, but Regina was on top of her, hands around her throat. Hermione vaguely heard the spell that created a bubble of space around them and realized that Snape couldn't help her. Regina slammed Hermione's head against the floor repeatedly. Hermione gasped as her vision began to swim, and drove the heel of her palm upwards as hard as she could, catching Regina in the face. Regina faltered, falling backwards, but grabbed the box. Hermione bucked her hips, throwing Regina, who tumbled away from her. Regina's wand was out and a quickly cast spell protected her. A series of vicious kicks to Hermione's ribs and stomach and she was gone. Hermione lay on the floor curled in a fetal position, trying to focus on staying conscious. She was still hurting from the beating Snape had given her earlier, and she had a feeling that her poor throat was going to have a necklace of bruises. Someone carefully picked her up amid loud protests and she slumped against her rescuer.

"Wrap your arms around my neck. I don't want you to fall." She managed to sling one arm around his neck before slumping against him once more.

"You know," she mumbled. "That really hurt."

She felt his chest shake as he chuckled. "I imagine. I'm taking you to my apartment. I'll do what I can to heal you."

"Great, I'm screwed," she groaned. "You didn't even know a spell to get glass out of my back. How are you going to deal with my scrambled brains?"

"They're not overly muddled if you're managing to talk back to a professor," he pointed out. "Or perhaps that's the best evidence for severe damage."

He Disapparated with a crack and appeared in his living room. The apartment was large, with black leather furniture similar to that in his chambers at Hogwarts. It was sparsely furnished with lots of open spaces and a soft white carpet. The walls had colorful prints and original pieces that Hermione vaguely registered.

"What about the Muggles?"

"The Ministry will take care of it. They won't know it was us—we didn't do any magic and I Apparated from a safe area."

She grunted softly in acknowledgement.

He proceeded to his bedroom and set her down on his bed. Hermione grunted and shifted onto her side as her bruised head hit the pillow. First things first: she pulled out her cell phone and left messages on the phones of her hosts, telling them that the man who'd carried her away was an old friend and had taken her to the hospital. She clicked off the phone and let it drop on a side table with a groan. "I cannot believe that jammy little blonde cow just went postal on me."

"That jammy little blonde cow was Voldemort's lover and right hand in the first war," Snape replied as he emerged from his bathroom with several vials and a glass of water. "She disappeared during the first war after Voldemort sent her after something called the Cord of Dreams. I'd heard she'd found something but she seems obsessed with this necklace instead."

Hermione pulled herself into a sitting position and touched her throat gingerly. "Well she needs an Eternal pendant to get to the temple where it's kept. But the pendants only work for their owners….she must think she's found a way to get around that. Wait, did you say she was Voldemort's lover? And right hand? Funny how no one ever mentions that."

Snape handed her the water first and she smiled her thanks. He sat on the edge of the bed and focused his attention on her. "You know about this Cord? What is it? And why do you have to have one of those pendants? Are they only given to harp players?" He fired off questions, ignoring her snide comment.

Hermione finished the water and set down the glass. She leaned her head back carefully, taking the soft down pillow that Snape handed her and positioning it behind her aching head. "Once you get the Gold pendant, you begin to hear things. Eternal pendants are awarded for nearly every instrument, but the harpist is the most powerful…no one knows why. Well, the harpist and the piccolo, of all things. Go figure. There are usually only one or two awarded every century or so. If you're good enough, and I mean really good, not just good compared to everyone else, people start to talk about the Chord of Dreams. As to why you need an Eternal pendant…well, the Chord wouldn't really be useful to anyone but a musician, would it?"

"I don't understand," Snape replied, brow furrowed, as he handed her a headache potion. "Why would a rope be useful to a musician?"

Hermione looked at him oddly before it dawned on her. "You think the Chord is a _cord_." She began to laugh, but let out a groan. "Damn, my head… The word Chord as relevant to us is spelled C-H-O-R-D. It's a piece of music, not a rope. The perfect piece of music." She yawned as the potions hit her and slid down in the bed, curling onto her side.

"What do you mean?" Snape gently persisted.

"The Chord of Dreams is the perfect piece of music," she repeated. "It can evoke any emotion and every emotion. Legend has it that the Chord was a random sound created by the nothingness before the universe existed. It was so beautiful, so incredible, that the universe spontaneously birthed itself. The Chord inspired the Big Bang, more or less. The Chord, or the sheet music for the Chord, is kept in a place called the Temple of Daylight. Supposedly, the sheet music for the Chord changes with the times…so it wouldn't have to be interpreted once it was found."

Snape shifted her body, tugging off her shoes, and pulled the down comforter over her. "What happens if Regina finds it?"

Hermione's eyes were half-open and her expression was dreamy. "There are lots of theories. We have two days…she has to purify herself before she can go looking for the Chord. If she accesses the temple with a pendant that isn't hers, it might trigger a domino effect that will destroy the temple, the Chord, and half of the Asian continent. If she plays the Chord…"

"If she plays the Chord, what?" Snape pushed, placing a hand on her face gently and forcing her to look at him.

"Some people think it makes you God…others think it shows you God."

"What do you think?"

"I think it will undo Creation," she sighed, falling asleep. Snape frowned as he watched her slip into a deep sleep. He unpinned her hair and went out to the living room. Snape poured himself a glass of wine and sat on his armchair, staring out the window at the city below him. He thought about Regina and the pendant. It was a wonder to him that there were so many ways to destroy the world. Sometimes he believed that wizards and Muggles alike had devoted most of their existence to finding ways to destroy themselves and everything else. No matter; Hermione obviously knew enough to make this particular episode of saving the world easier than most. At least he would not spend days trying to figure out what the hell was happening, reading endless books that contained everything except what he was looking for at the time. He smiled sardonically when he realized that Hermione had gotten involved despite his reservations about getting her help. She was a target now. The thought made him frown. Regina would have killed Hermione if she could have. Of course, Regina had underestimated Granger, much as he had. But Hermione no longer had the advantage of being underestimated, and her Muggle combat skills and wizard dueling skills alike would be useless to her against a witch as strong as Regina. But then, with such illustrious heritage, how could Regina not be powerful?

His last thought before he drifted to sleep was that he needed Hermione's help whether he wanted it or not.

Hermione awoke with a start. The room was pitch black and she was warm and comfortable. So why had she awakened? It took her mere seconds to notice the figure leaning against the wall, staring out the window.

"Professor?" she mumbled, her voice scratchy. "Severus? What are you doing?" He turned to her, surprised.

"I came to check on you," he said softly. "Go back to sleep, Hermione."

"You should sleep too," she said with a yawn. "We've got a long day tomorrow." A thought occurred to her. "Where are you sleeping?"

"In the living room on the couch," he replied mildly as he started to leave.

"Hey, hang on a minute," she said firmly, more awake now. "I'm not kicking you out of your own bed. I'll sleep on the couch." She pulled off the covers, noting with a grimace that her dress had left imprints on her. "And do you have spare pajamas or something? This dress is bloody uncomfortable to sleep in."

She stood before him, hair wild and curly, eyes sleepy but sharpening quickly. He smiled and went to the closet, pulling out an extra pair of his pajamas. He had not changed either and did so quickly. When he exited the closet, he tossed her the soft silk clothes.

"Somehow, I doubt those bottoms are going to fit you," he noted wryly. Hermione grinned and turned her back to him, unzipping the dress and letting it fall to the floor. He looked away quickly. She pulled on the pajama top and it hung down nearly to her knees.

"Good enough," she decided. "I could probably transfigure the pajamas, but I doubt I have quite enough energy for that."

"Neither do I," he yawned as he moved toward the door. Hermione caught his wrist.

"Where do you think you're going? I told you, I'll sleep on the couch."

Snape pulled his wrist free and turned to her. "You look like hell, Miss Granger," he said flatly. "You need a proper rest." His fingers probed the back of her head and she gasped. She flinched when he gently touched her throat, and groaned when he placed his hands on her back. He pulled her into a gentle hug before leading her back to the bed. "Sleep now," he said soothingly. For a moment he wondered what it was about her that brought out in him the odd urge to protect and care for her. He scowled; disturbed.

Hermione studied him for a moment. "You're different," she said softly. "Something about Regina…?" She let it go. "Look, this bed is huge. We can share it."

"That's probably not very appropriate," he pointed out.

She snorted. "I'm not going to jump you, sir. And I highly doubt you're going to jump me. We could share this bed without touching each other easily. Stop being a stubborn mule and let's go to sleep."

He thought about it for a moment, knowing that she was most likely correct. With a resigned sigh, he climbed into the bed, pulling up the covers and settling on his back. Hermione curled onto her side once more, facing him.

"As long as you don't hog the covers, we should be fine," she said before falling asleep. A small smile graced his features before he drifted as well.


	6. Chapter 5

I got some really lovely reviews on last chapter. Thank you, everyone!  
SelenityPotter was my super-quick reviewer. I'm glad you're having fun.  
SlytherinsDarkAngel07: Flute, eh? That's pretty cool! As for the two options you offered for the 'waking up scene'…none of the above. Honestly it never occurred to me to have them wake up spooning at this stage. Kinda early on for that sort of thing, considering the, erm, _leisurely_ pace at which I'm letting things develop. (Yeah, okay, I'll admit I'm damn slow about building up to the action sometimes, but I always deliver!)  
DeAtH2aLLpRePZ: an update, as requested!  
SpykedJadeDragon: I shall update as regularly as possible…hope you like it!  
Hand3: the Update Fairy strikes again!  
Lil: better late than never. Foreshadowing, eh? You warped English major you.  
Right then, here we go!  
I don't own them and this is just a bit of fun, not intended to be a literary masterpiece. That said, please read and review…

aimes

* * *

"Ow," Hermione groaned as she woke up. "I didn't realize it was possible to be this sore." She turned her head toward Snape, who rolled onto his side to face her and studied her eyes. "I have some muscle relaxants if it will help," he offered.

"Do you have a headache potion that won't make me sleepy?" she asked hopefully.

"Yes," he assured her. "Hermione, I need your help to find the temple and the Chord."

"And Regina," she finished for him. "I know. I was going to find it anyways…to destroy the Chord."

"Destroy it? Why?" He reached toward her, gently feeling out the wound on her head. She grimaced slightly but spoke.

"It shouldn't exist," she said simply. "It isn't needed, and in the wrong hands it's very dangerous. Take someone like Regina. She's devoted nearly her whole life to being good enough to win an Eternal pendant, just so she can get the Chord. And in the end Eternal musicians are chosen by their peers, not the universe, and people are fallible. What if they'd chosen Regina? If I hadn't decided to try for it this year, they might have. Many in the music world had begun to think I would never play for the Eternal Harpist, and there was talk of who would be the next best thing…Regina would have been it."

Snape pondered this for a moment. "You said it wasn't needed. Why?"

"Regina never understood. The reason no Eternal musician has ever tried to get the Chord is because we all realize that we don't need it. Every one of us at some point in our lives plays the Chord."

"I don't understand," his brow furrowed. "You said it would undo Creation. How then can you play it?"

Hermione shifted slightly and the pajama top she was wearing gaped open slightly. Snape frowned at the ugly bruises on her throat. He touched the damaged skin and Hermione groaned softly and batted away his hand before answering his question.

"Only the whole piece would undo Creation. I never chose to pursue the Eternal pendant is because I didn't think I was ready. And then, this winter, I was practicing…playing spontaneously, with no sheet music…and it happened. I played the most unbelievable variation. I wanted to laugh and cry and scream and be silent all at the same time. That's when I knew I was ready to receive the Eternal Harpist." She studied his face to see if he understood.

"You played a bit of the Chord," he concluded.

"Yes. And it happened because I wasn't playing the music, I was allowing it to create itself. That's what the Chord is: self-creation. Everyone does it, consciously or subconsciously at some point in their lives and it is what fuels the universe. People re-create themselves every day in different ways: changing their make-up, switching jobs, dyeing their hair," she said with a smile. "Eternal musicians never look for the Chord because we hear it and see it all the time."

"Regina thinks it will make her a goddess," Snape said. "She thinks it will give her absolute power over creation and destruction."

"She may be right, in a way. The person who was with me when I played the Chord…he committed suicide two days later. In his note he wrote that 'the music inspired him.' The Chord is powerful, no doubt…much more powerful than Regina. She's not skilled enough to play it. It will consume her and destroy existence," Hermione said quietly. "Which is why we have to stop her. It might have been easier…" she trailed off thoughtfully.

"Easier if what?" he asked carefully. Hermione's eyes refocused on him and she smiled wistfully.

"It might have been easier if Vasili was still alive. I studied with him once, when I was younger…he was the last holder of the Eternal Harpist. Traditionally he would have chosen the next holder, but he died a year ago without selecting a successor. I think he was waiting for me." She shrugged. "Thus it fell to the most skilled harpists remaining."

Snape nodded to himself. "And they might have selected Regina because they did not know what you and your teacher have learned. Why does she have to purify herself?"

Hermione shrugged. "She obtained the key through violence. It will reflect when she tries to enter the temple and play the Chord. The Chord won't be readable. All music is emotion, but the Chord is self-creating and holds all emotion, so it has to be played without the musician influencing its direction too much. Thus, if the musician finds it while contaminated by strong emotion, it will be undecipherable."

"Do you have any idea where it is?" he asked.

"Somewhat," she replied. "But I also know someone with a more exact idea of the location."

Hermione sat up and stretched before rising from the bed. Snape had a sudden passing thought of how sexy she looked clad in his pajama top and tousled with sleep. He pushed it away and tried to focus on what Hermione had just said.

"Severus?" she said, turning. "Are you still with me?"

"Hm?" his eyes refocused and he looked at her. Hermione smiled playfully. "I was asking if you had a spare towel. So I can shower? And where those potions are." Her face went blank for a moment. "Were you thinking of Regina?"

"No," he replied honestly, face relaxing slightly. "I simply wasn't fully awake. There are extra towels in the cabinet in the bathroom. Help yourself. The potions are on the counter and they're labeled. Would you like some breakfast?"

"I'd love some. I didn't get a proper dinner last night."

Snape rose as well, lengthening his muscles in a slow stretch and brushing his hair out of his face. "Is there anything you don't eat?" he asked her. "I'm aware that it's unlikely since Gryffindors are known to eat just about anything, however…"

"Pickiness is a Slytherin trait," she retorted, smiling. "One which I, as a Gryffindor, do not possess. I will gladly eat anything you cook; thank you, sir."

He shot her a bemused look before exiting, but said nothing. Hermione shook herself out of her reverie as he closed the door behind him and peeled off the shirt. She found a spare towel and switched on the shower, busying herself taking potions in order to let the water warm up before getting in. The warm water felt glorious on her sore muscles and she let out a happy sigh. Her back was sore from her encounter with the window, and there was an impressive bruise on the back of her head. She decided that it didn't particularly matter as long as she was alive. Besides, Severus' potions were quite effective. She realized with a start that she had unconsciously begun to pick up his given name…and he had not commented on it. Something about beating the crap out of each other sort of let down some barriers, she decided. She refused to consider other possibilities.

Hermione let the water run down her body for several moments before picking up the bottle of shampoo. She washed her hair three times to rid herself of the temporary hot pink dye, smiling at the scent of cedarwood in the shampoo. When Hermione was relatively sure the dye was out she worked conditioner into her hair and rinsed it after letting it sit for a few moments. After washing the last of the soap from her skin, she stepped out of the shower and began to dry herself off. As an afterthought she grabbed another towel and wrapped it in her hair before tying her bath towel around her body and stepping out of the steamy bathroom. On the counter was an unopened deodorant stick, a wooden comb with thick, widely spaced teeth, and an extra toothbrush. A tube of toothpaste sat near the toothbrush and Hermione brushed her teeth quickly before picking up the deodorant and comb.

"Clothes," she murmured. She walked into the bedroom to grab her dress and saw a set of garments. She picked them up with a raised eyebrow. Underwear, bra, jeans, tank top, and sweater. They all looked approximately the correct size, she noted wryly. Hermione pulled on the black satin bra and panties, both of which fit quite well, and applied some deodorant under her arms. The jeans were a bit loose around the hips and she adjusted them with her wand. The shirt and sweater fit perfectly. The tank top was black and the sweater was, naturally, green.

"Of course he has to rub it in, doesn't he? Figures," she mumbled. She tried vainly to remember why the underwear looked so familiar. The jeans were similar to the ones she usually wore—hip-hugging but flared at the bottom, and the tank top was basic cotton. The sweater was supremely soft, with a v-neck, and was gently form-fitting. She pulled the towel out of her hair let it run wild, tugging the comb through her curls to tame them a bit. She tossed her towels in the hamper, replaced the toiletries, and walked out of the bedroom in bare feet. The living room curtains were open and a brilliant light shone in, reflecting off the carpet. The black leather furniture stood out in stark relief, and the random artwork on the walls splashed the room in brilliant color.

"I trust you had a nice shower," he said from the kitchen without turning. "Breakfast will be ready in a moment."

"I won't ask how you know my underwear sizes," she said in an amused tone. "I'll just pour us both some coffee and wonder to myself."

"I checked the size on your dress and made some guesses," he shrugged. "At least for the underwear. You left your brassiere on the chair with your dress," he admitted a bit uncomfortably.

"Did you just transfigure them?" She took her coffee straight black and boosted herself up on the counter to watch him.

"No. I took a set of my own _clean_ clothes and transfigured them. I assume you paid an obscene amount of money for the dress and would be intolerably indignant if I made it into jeans."

Hermione shrugged. "Yeah, now that you mention it. Thank you for so kindly sacrificing your rather nice clothes for me." He glanced at her warily and she smiled brilliantly.

"Your hair is brown again," he observed.

"Yep, it was temporary dye. Good thing, too…hot pink hair wouldn't have matched this sweater very well. Out of curiosity, how did you pick what to transfigure?"

"I've seen you wear jeans and the tank top and sweater seemed like safe enough choices. The underwear I must have seen in a display somewhere." He shrugged. "I'm hardly familiar with women's underwear. I assumed you'd change them if you didn't like them."

Hermione laughed as she hopped off the counter and took silverware and plates to the glass table in the breakfast area. "You know, you're cleverer than you look," she teased.

"Nine million points from Gryffindor," he responded deadpan. Hermione looked up at him in shock only to see his mouth quirking in a half smile and she mock-glared at him.

"Well ten million from Slytherin," she retorted. "I _am_ Head Girl, after all. I'm sure it's in the contract somewhere…besides, somewhere out there Draco's faithfully breaking ever more rules."

"Probably true," he agreed, setting the omelets and sausage on the table along with some fresh fruit.

They sat and began to eat, pausing only to sip at the coffee. "This is really delicious, sir," Hermione mumbled through a mouthful of eggs. He inclined his head in a gesture of acknowledgement as he popped an orange slice in his mouth.

Hermione took one last bite of her omelet and pushed the plate away, leaning back with a satisfied sigh. She opened her eyes to see Snape frowning at her.

"What?" she asked, surprised.

"I hadn't thought you to be one of those silly girls that eat like a bird," he said scathingly. "I hoped you were more sensible than that."

"Hey now," she said defensively, nose wrinkled. "I eat plenty, thank you very much! Sometimes I eat three large meals and sometimes I like to snack all day. I swear, your commenting my eating habits is a theme."

Snape looked confused. "Don't you remember when we worked on that Crucio healing potion during the war? You said that every time you turned around I was eating. Poked fun at me for days." She pulled a face.

Snape began to chuckle. "Now that you mention it, I believe I do remember that," he admitted. "And you got that same sour expression whenever I brought it up." An odd expression flickered in his eyes as he realized that she had made him laugh twice in the last two days. And he was becoming almost…talkative?

"We need a plan," he said more soberly.

"The first thing I need to do is meet with Norman," she said decisively. "He can give me more of an idea of where the Temple is located. After that, we travel." She shrugged. "It will only take us a day or two to get there, I think. There's a twenty mile radius surrounding the temple where magic won't work. Regina will already be preparing to go there. She can probably do the meditation to purify while she's working her way toward the temple. I'm going to take a leap and guess she's obscenely rich and can hang out in a palanquin or whatever those litters are called while everyone else does the work."

Snape shrugged. "Evil megalomaniacal witches are never poor," he replied sardonically. "It simply wouldn't be fitting." He pushed back from the table and went to the bedroom to take a shower. Hermione furrowed her brow at his abrupt departure before rising and gathered the dishes from the table to clean up. It promised to be a long day.


	7. Chapter 6

Alrighty-roo. SlytherinsDarkAngel07 was my superquick reviewer! I would hate to have a boulder fall on Regina, I rather like her. She's so deliciously self-serving and evil. None of that humanity crap for her! Unfortunately, like any archenemy, there are limited options for what happens to her…and since I don't think she'll be changing her spots anytime soon, Regina had better go out and get laid 'cause her prognosis is not good.  
Hand3 (aka Danielle, aka…well you have too many names now): Update fairy is back till the end of this story and update fairy hearts you! Expect random updates to appear magically in Inboxes everywhere. Snape was actually quite nice in that last chapter, mostly because they were in a one-on-one setting and I wrote in the first chapter that he's nice one-on-one. In general, I've tried not to make him too nice or too cruel or too anything, really. In my little world, he's a just quiet, self-contained person with a serious inability to interact socially. Sorry if he's not to your liking (shrug) I'll try to even out the character a bit in later chapters since you pointed it out.  
Tammy: You're back! How was your mini-break? I like your short, inspiring reviews that tell me I'm krunk. (grin) I want a shirt that says I'm krunk. Think I'd get shot? Avery Goodun: sheepishly I've never seen Highlander, so I'm not completely sure what you mean…but as long as you like it, I'm happy.  
Fiona McKinnon: Well thank you, my dear. Please keep reviewing.

So my goal is to get more reviews on this than I've ever gotten on a story (so I'm trying to top the 119 I got on Tae Kwon Do)…thus I really appreciate every single one of you that's stopped to review, even if it's just a smiley face.

Right, so, end of really long A/N, I promise. I continue to faithfully own nothing and still insist that while I want everyone to enjoy this piece, it's not supposed to be Shakespeare or anything. Read it for fun, not life-changing insight!  
Here we go…

Aimes

* * *

Three hours later, Severus Snape sat in a corner of a coffee shop, drinking tea and pretending to read a newspaper. He watched Hermione to the left of him as she sat at a table across from a blond man and began to speak. 

"I received the Harpist," she said with a wry expression.

"I know. And Gina Gray went ballistic and stole it. Doesn't she know that it only works for its owner?"

"She thinks she's got a way 'round that problem, I guess. Look, I wouldn't have gone after the Chord on my own, but I refuse to let that psycho blonde get it."

He looked surprised and excited. "Are you serious? This has been my dream for years! Imagine the money involved! But," his face sobered, "I can't go right now. My mum's in the hospital with cancer."

"Shit, I'm sorry Norman," Hermione said softly. "Is the prognosis bad?"

"Yeah, she's going to die, I think," he replied, face tight. "But she lived a good, happy life, at least."

Hermione nodded. "Norman, I can't wait to go after Gina. She's probably gone by now. Tell me how to find the temple and I'll give you twenty-five percent."

Snape raised an amused eyebrow behind his newspaper.

"Fifty," Norman replied with a grin, knowing she'd never go for it.

"I don't have time for this," Hermione said irritably, though the amusement was evident in her face. "Let's skip the bargaining and agree on thirty-seven so that I can get going and beat the crap out of that girl."

"Done," Norman said, laughing. "On the condition that if you find anything you fence it yourself and I get cold, hard cash. I'm trying to avoid being arrested…I'm not too popular in some countries right now."

"Yeah, well, finding those Viking artifacts and promptly selling to the highest bidder might have pissed off the countries with proprietary rights. Though I don't think anyone's really sure who had proprietary rights."

Norman shrugged. "Hey, I could've waited forever to let them figure out who owned them and pay me, but this was faster and I have bills to pay. Anyways, that's ancient history. By the way, Gina did quite a number on your poor neck. You should wear a scarf till that heals…people are going to think your boyfriend abuses you." Hermione stuck her tongue out at him.

"Where's the temple?"

"I went one better. Your congratulatory gift for receiving the Eternal Harpist is this super-awesome PalmPilot. Best on the market, I'll have you know. Your consolation prize for having your pendant stolen is that the Pilot's loaded with all the info I've got on the Temple of Daylight and the Chord of Dreams. Thirty-seven percent. Good luck." He rose and shook her hand. Hermione leaned over and kissed him on the cheek.

"Thank you Norman. Give your mum my love." He nodded and left the coffee shop, tossing down ten pounds for the tab. Hermione followed him out and ducked into a side alley, Apparating to Snape's apartment. He appeared ten minutes later as agreed.

"I've got what we need," she said, not looking up from the data screen. "We need to go to Russia. Well, Siberia."

"I think we'll need warmer clothes," he pointed out.

"Well, for the initial part of the trip we will. The Temple of Daylight itself is located in a magical area that's perpetually sunny. And probably really beautiful with gardens and whatnot, I'd wager. We can apparate to Moscow and travel through more conventional means from there. Once we hit the magical no-zone, we're on foot anyways."

"Why not take Muggle vehicles?"

"Well, we'll take a Jeep or a Land Rover or some such if we can get it, but I make no guarantees. Vasili's nephew has contacts in the black market, but it'll cost us."

Snape had pulled a durable travel pack from a closet and tossed it on the couch. He pulled out a wallet from one of the side pockets and casually held up a Platinum Visa card. "Courtesy of the Order of the Phoenix," he told her.

"Can you do cash advances on that thing? Because I somehow doubt that the Russian Black Market takes Visa cards," she laughed.

He tossed in some supplies and shot her a glare. "Of course I can, but it's not necessary. There's enough money available in a Swiss account." His tone made it clear that he thought she was a moron and Hermione tried not to snicker. When he'd stocked the pack with some food, water, and other gear, he turned to her.

"Do you need to do anything before we leave? I've already owled Albus to tell him you're with me."

"I've got to stop by my parents' house," she replied. "I could use some better shoes." She looked down at the heels she had worn with the jeans.

"Very well. How do we get to your parents' home?"

Hermione furrowed her brow. "Well if you trusted me not to splinch us, I could Apparate us both there."

He shrugged. "I trust you enough." Hermione put the PalmPilot in her back pocket and pulled out her wand. Snape slung the pack over his shoulder. He had dressed in black slacks and a black sweater and had added a thick coat to the ensemble. Hermione took his hand, focused for a moment, and Disapparated with a crack.

They appeared in her living room, where her parents looked up in surprise. Hermione looked startled. "Hello Mum, hello Dad. I thought you were in Florence."

"We were in Geneva, and we got back this morning," her mother responded. "What are you doing here? Who is this?"

"Ah, this is Professor Snape," Hermione introduced. "Professor, these are my parents, the doctors Granger." He nodded and gave a slight bow. "I'll be right back," she told him quietly. "I apologize in advance."

He looked at her in confusion and irritation but she was already exiting the room.

"So," Hermione's father said, coldly. "Who exactly are you?"

"I am Miss Granger's Potions Professor," he responded stiffly, surprised. "As I have been for the last seven years." He made an effort to curb his attitude. Though he was not as thoughtlessly cruel and rude as he had been in years past, some people had the innate ability to make his hackles rise.

"And Potions is a subject of hers?" Mrs. Granger asked curiously. Snape kept his expression blank.

"Well, yes. It's a bit like Chemistry, I suppose." Hermione's mother gestured at one of the chairs and Snape sat warily.

"And what are your designs on my daughter?" Mr. Granger asked icily.

"Designs? I am her teacher, nothing more. I needed her help on a project related to the end of the war." He glared impressively at the man.

"Does she need extra credit?" Mrs. Granger asked, looking a bit angry. "Has she let her grades slip?"

"What war?" her father asked suspiciously. "What has that girl gotten into?"

Snape tried to sort out the situation mentally. These people apparently knew absolutely nothing about their daughter, he realized.

"Do you even know how tall she is?" he asked out of the blue. "What her favorite food is? The names of her best friends? _Anything?_"

"Oh, her friends," her mother said dismissively. "Robert and Harold or some such. Friends are secondary to her future, she should know that. Maybe I need to have a talk with her," she said with a long-suffering sigh.

Snape shook his head and gave the Grangers an odd look. Quite possibly one of the strangest encounters he'd had with a student's parents. Hell, with _anyone's_ parents. He knew parents that hated their children and parents that spoiled their children and even parents that ignored their children, but never parents that so barely seemed to recognize the existence of their child and yet be so ready to find flaw. He was beginning to wonder if they knew her name. He hadn't heard them say it once.

"I'm ready," Hermione announced breathlessly, as she jogged back into the room. She had a long thick wool coat over her sweater and carried a messenger bag slung over one shoulder. He saw a beanie and gloves peeking out of a pocket, and she tossed him a black scarf even as she tied one around her own neck. Her heels had been replaced with sturdy black boots.

"Bye Mum, bye Dad," she said quickly as she moved toward the hallway.

"Stop right there, young lady. What have you gotten into?" her father raged. Hermione shot Snape a deadly look and he shrugged. He wasn't particularly happy with her for abandoning him with her parents. Especially when everyone at Hogwarts knew how wretched he was in social situations. He crossed his arms and allowed her to deal with the confrontation on her own. Hermione took on a placating expression.

"I have no idea what you're talking about, Dad."

"You seem to need extra credit! And you're gallivanting around instead of being at school, studying. You spend more time with your friends than you do focusing on your future! What the hell kind of war were you involved in? And where exactly do you think you're going now?" Mr. Granger had worked himself into a righteous fury and Hermione winced. "And _what is this?_" he hissed, holding up a photo. Hermione snatched it from his hand and paled. Snape could see the anger building in her expression, and her entire body tensed. He glanced surreptitiously at the photo. Hermione was smiling brilliantly at the camera, wearing a long lavender gown. Her hair was down, framing her face, and she wore a gleaming gold pendant with a kneeling harpist on it. Her hand was lightly touching the necklace at her throat.

"It's a photo," she said acidly. "It must have fallen out of my diary when I took all of my private possessions out of the house and moved them into storage. Looking at this and considering the fact that you probably dug around in my room to find it, I think it's fairly obvious _why_ I removed my things."

"When you are apparently going out like a tart," he yelled, "it's necessary for me to keep tabs on you."

"You don't know anything about me," she said, her voice so low and angry that it was barely audible. "You can't even remember my birthday, you self-absorbed—" she stopped short and shut her mouth, fighting for control.

"Oh dear, honey, we'll be late for our tea date with Cyril," Mrs. Granger said, glancing at the clock.

"We will finish this when you come home for spring break," her father said coldly. "And if I hear anything more about you being more involved with boys than school…"

"We'll be in Tuscany during her spring break," Mrs. Granger reminded him.

"Fine then, during the summer," he spat. "We will not tolerate this behavior."

"We're in China this summer," Mrs. Granger said absently as she gathered her purse. "We really are late, dear." She took his arm and they left, giving Hermione one more warning look as they closed the door. Snape heard an engine start and a car drive away and looked cautiously at Hermione. She handed him the photo silently and he flipped it over.

_**Unparalleled beauty with unparalleled talent. Oh, the places you'll go.**_

_**--Vasili**_

"Well that was a little piece of heaven," she said mildly, the anger drained from her expression, leaving it mild and a bit tired. "I wonder if they realize I'm graduating this year." She shook it off and turned a mildly annoyed gaze on him. "Thanks for backing me up. What did you say to them?"

"I said nothing," he responded coldly, meeting her eyes evenly. "In fact, I believe I was fairly extraneous to the conversation in general. Why did you not see it fit to tell me about your parents?"

"I really didn't think they'd be here. I mean, they're almost never around. I'm very sorry about that, sir. I wouldn't have brought you if I'd known they were going to be here, I wouldn't have brought you." She looked up at him a bit nervously. Now was not the time to lose her only ally, especially when he'd been so patient with her. Hell, she might have even said he was fond of her. She blinked at the thought before pulling her attention back to him. Snape was watching her, dark eyes seeming to absorb light.

"As long as you can assure me that I will not have to encounter your parents in the near future, I believe I can let this encounter go," he said grudgingly.

Hermione gave him a small smile. "Are you ready?" she asked him.

"I…yes," he said, still a bit dazed. "I'm ready when you are." He expected to leave immediately but Hermione was staring at a picture on the mantle, a photo of her parents together. He saw her expression falter for a moment as she gazed at the happy couple.

"Are you okay?" he asked, a bit concerned. He would not be able to deal with her going to pieces.

"You think this is new for me?" she snorted. "I'm pretty sure they don't remember my name anymore, which is why they consistently refer to me as 'young lady.' I took up martial arts so I wouldn't be arrested for double homicide." She smiled without humour. "Having my parents is the fastest way to four black belts." She looked back at the picture. "It's just odd sometimes…not to be a part of the love that is so obviously shared by them."

"I was wondering if they ever used your name," he commented. He fumbled for the correct words. "I am not an expert on family relations, so I cannot offer advice, however…there are many at Hogwarts who care very much about you. Your parents are blind to the miracle they have created." He went silent, hoping he had helped somewhat…or at least not made it worse. Hermione looked at him thoughtfully before nodding.

"You're right, of course," she said firmly, brusquely. "Thank you." She smiled at him gratefully.

He shrugged and took her hand without question, expressing his trust in her ability to Apparate them. "Do you know where we're going?"

"Of course." Within seconds they had disappeared with a pop. They appeared outside of a huge house. Snow fell around them and Hermione shivered and moved closer to Snape unconsciously. He put an arm around her and rubbed briskly to warm her. And, he admitted to himself, to comfort her a bit if he could. Hermione glanced up at him, a bit surprised, but his expression was blank as usual. They both turned their attention to the massive house that stood before them in the icy coldness of Russia.


	8. Chapter 7

NOTE: I re-uploaded this chapter after Tammy pointed out a name mistake. Always check your facts or have reviewers who know what they're talking about. Priceless.  
NOTE 2: Bloody hell, Avery Goodun caught a mistake too. This chapter probably should've been beta'd by someone less lazy than me. It has been yet again re-uploaded. Thanks Tammy and Avery!  
Well, everyone seemed to quite enjoy last chapter! Yay!  
Tammy was my super-quick reviewer! Hermione's parents are indeed poo's. I like that word. I actually wasn't going to make them as mean as I did, but that's just how they turned out. I'd also like to point out that despite the bunny exodus, you've already written something original, unless I was reading something written by someone else and posted on your account.  
Duj: Thanks for the review! I didn't worry too much about making her parents canon since we only see them all of twice (hmm, they're never around…why doesn't it bother them that Hermione spends all her time, including her summers, at school or with the Weasleys?). I actually mentally had this idea that with her parents as I wrote them, the reason they went shopping with her was to 'make an appearance' because it's appropriate.  
SlytherinsDarkAngel: I'm just one of those people who cannot conceive of normal happy loving family life. Probably because my family's just too crazy.  
Avery Goodun: Extra cookies for you! They do indeed get a Land Rover!  
Fiona McKinnon (aka Pams): Glad my 'rents aren't like that either!  
Danielle (aka Hand3): This chapter's for you since you're computer-less as of Friday.  
Lil: Always love the reviews…  
Reflection in Fire: Wow, your message was awesome. Thank you so much! I'm glad you enjoy my stuff…

For the record, I'm only ever posting on ff and I tried posting on Ashwinder and it's just a pain in the arse. I bloody well give up on that…requires way too much computer competence. Laziness has become my way of life…

Once again, my goal is to beat my previous record 119 reviews on a story, so if you're reading this, leave me some love! I owe sugar cookies with blue frosting to everyone who's been so gracious as to review and to all those who loyally continue reviewing every chapter. You guys rock!

aimes (who needs to pack up her apartment)

* * *

"Where are we?"

"That's Vasili's house. His nephew, Vanya, said he'd meet us inside this evening at seven. He's putting together the gear I asked him for…I emailed him a list from your apartment. He told me he'd leave food and other things he thought we'd need."

Snape nodded. "Let's go inside and get the heat started," he suggested. "I'd prefer to avoid freezing to death in the middle of Russia with you." Hermione shivered once more, burrowing against his side.

"Good idea," she said, teeth chattering. She pulled a key from her pocket and stepped onto the walkway, pulling him with her.

The house was perhaps five degrees warmer than the outside. Hermione switched on the heat, turning the thermostat all the way up. The heater clunked three times but didn't start, much to her chagrin. She went to the living room where Snape had a roaring fire going, supplemented with a quick heating charm that he intended to remove when the Russian arrived. He had removed his coat and boots and set them near the fire to warm up. Hermione shrugged off her own coat and walked over to an old harp in the corner and ran her fingers up the strings with a wistful smile.

"This is the harp I learned on," she said, reminiscing about the day nearly thirteen years before that she'd walked into Vasili's London studio and sat down in front of the instrument and began to play. She'd no idea then that the harp was worth several million dollars, it had simply drawn her. She remembered playing part of Maurice Ravel's Opus 50, from memory. He'd called her a prodigy and she'd looked at him as though he was crazy. The start of a relationship that would shape her life.

"You know, when I was little, my mum told me I couldn't carry a tune in a bucket." She laughed as she sat down and played Opus 50, the same bit she'd played for Vasili Barokov all those years ago. "Told me I had the musical talent of howling dog." She stopped and stood abruptly, running a hand down the smooth wood. Snape sat on the couch watching her silently and she turned to him, catching his gaze. "To this day, she has no idea."

Hermione walked over to the bar and picked up the bottle of vodka resting on the counter, as well as the note it anchored. "'The only way to keep warm in Russia,'" she read. She poured two glasses and brought them to the couch, grabbing the bottle as an afterthought. Her coat and boots were tossed next to his before she curled up on the sofa, staring at the fire through her glass.

"At the risk of sparking some latent and misguided familial loyalty mechanism, your parents are idiots," Snape said, sipping at the vodka. He reached down and pulled out the chicken pesto sandwiches he'd prepared earlier and put in the bag. He handed her one and took one for himself.

"Ah, chicken sandwiches and vodka. All is right with the world," Hermione deadpanned.

"I'll take it back if you don't want it," he retorted. Hermione laughed. "Have they always been like that?" he asked her after a moment. He was hesitant to bring her thoughts back to her parents but realized that she had probably not stopped thinking about them since they'd left.

"My mother probably would not have noticed she'd given birth except that she went into labor at an important dinner party," she responded facetiously. "I've been hearing about that one pretty much since I could understand full sentences. They're very concerned with keeping up appearances and sticking to their busy social schedule. Beyond requiring that I be as close to perfect as humanly possible to serve their occasional need for a trophy child, I might as well not exist."

"It explains a lot," he said thoughtfully.

"Ah yes, you refer to my people-pleasing tendencies. Took me years to approach the rest of my life the way I approach music…as something for myself and not to gain the approval of my parents."

"What did it?" He was genuinely curious. When he'd been young he too had craved the approval of others, but eventually he simply gave up and realized that the world would never accept him.

"One day I just realized that I didn't even want their approval. I also realized that I had based my entire life on the approval of others—Harry, Ron, McGonagall, Dumbledore. The only people I've ever had truly honest relationships with are Vasili and Ginny Weasley. For some reason I never needed approval from them…or maybe I was afraid of what would happen if I even tried for it. When Vasili died…I had to face some things that I probably would've avoided forever. I put my friendships to the test….and not all of them passed," she said quietly. She finished the sandwich and crumpled the wrapper, putting it on the coffee table next to the vodka.

"I noticed some tension between you and Molly near the end of the war," he noted. "It was hard to miss. I assumed that you broke the Weasley boy's heart." Something about the way he said it made her glance up at him sharply but his expression was bland and expectant. He was waiting for her response.

"She had it in her head that Ron and I were going to get married and I was going to turn into a sweet housewife with five kids and a dog. I told her it wasn't what I wanted from life…well, it got ugly, that's all I'll say. She thought I was looking down on her choices in life." Hermione looked away from him.

Snape raised an eyebrow. "I'll admit that nearly everyone expected you to marry Weasley," he replied trying not to sneer. "I rather believe that Molly sometimes questions her own decisions in life. She was merely projecting that onto you." Hermione recognized it as a flash of insight from someone who had frequently questioned his life decisions.

She looked at him for a long moment. "Molly needs to have more faith in herself sometimes. Yeah, nearly everyone did expect me to end up with him. Unfortunately Ron's not my type. I love him. As a brother. I dated him more because everyone expected me to than anything else. I have this tortured history of making foolish dating choices, though Ron was actually one of my better picks."

"Don't we all?" he replied morosely.

"Regina," she said softly. "Tell me about her."

He sighed and downed the rest of his vodka. Hermione had rarely seen him so open and communicative. She placed her hand on his gently. "Tell me about her," she repeated quietly.

"Regina de la Gris. Daughter of Minerva McGonagall and Albus Dumbledore and Intended of Voldemort. He actually proposed to her, can you believe that?" The sneer on his face was self-mocking.

"Wow, she's got quite the history already. What was she to you?"

"My…well, let's just say _someone_ had to introduce her to Voldemort, right? Regina and I were lovers. Before I realized that she was quite possibly as evil as he was. They were made for one another. Of course I never actually trusted her completely…she never knew I was really working for Albus. Something stopped me from saying it every time."

"So much for pillow talk," Hermione said wryly. "But it does say something positive about your instincts."

"You know what really gets me? She was with Voldemort from day one."

"With…oh _with_ him. Ew," she shuddered. Then it really hit her. "Oh _ew_! Sharing is _not_ caring." She looked at him with a slightly disgusted expression. "You must have vomited." She pulled a face before realizing what she'd just said to him. Cringing, Hermione looked up at him sheepishly.

"I vomited several times," he admitted, still stuck in the memories and barely noticing her behavior. It was his turn to shudder. "In retrospect, however, it served me well. She was convinced I told her everything, and thus trusted me implicitly. And Voldemort trusted her implicitly. Therefore…" he gestured carelessly as he poured himself another glass of vodka. He poured her some more as well. "Our motto in the first war was no different from our motto in the last: whatever it takes." His voice was cold and his expression was bitter. "She asked to meet Voldemort before she knew that I was a double agent. I couldn't risk my position by telling her and I didn't completely trust her. So I led her to the wolves without even trying to save her."

"Whoa, you only introduced her to Voldemort. She was the one who joined him of her own free will and of her own free will she chose to sleep with him. You're not that good." Hermione objected.

"Obviously," he said flatly, bemused.

"Look, it's not your fault she's a crazy bitch, just like it's not Dumbledore's or McGonagall's. And it's definitely not your fault that she likes to sleep with deformed monsters."

"You're not making this better, Hermione," he snapped.

"Sorry, sorry," she apologized. She leaned over and wrapped her arms around him, settling against his body. Snape tensed for a moment, but the vodka had loosened him, and he slid an arm around her comfortably instead of giving her a piece of his mind.

"The worst you can be accused of is having shit taste in women," she reassured him. She yawned widely and rested her head on his chest. "Really shit taste," she chuckled.

"How brilliantly insightful," he grumbled. "In any case, I highly doubt that you can top the foolishness of taking Regina as a lover."

"I dated Viktor Krum. Even worse, I _trusted_ Viktor Krum. At least you can't say the same of Regina. It was nearly the death of me," she pointed out wryly. Suddenly the half-smile vanished from her face and she pulled away from him, eyes downcast and tired.

"Just as what happened with Regina was not my fault, what happened with Krum was not yours," Snape said forcefully, not releasing her. He was not sure why this mattered so much to him…but that was a lie. He knew exactly why it mattered to him. Hermione slumped against him and closed her eyes, remembering the winter of her sixth year.

"He was the first man I ever killed," she said softly. "But not the last."

"I wanted to tell you," he said after a moment. "I tried to keep you away from him but I couldn't do much. He was a favorite of Voldemort and I was in a precarious position. I ran enough risk that you might tell him I was a spy. I always regretted that I could not prevent what happened."

"I always regretted that I was stupid enough to trust him," she replied flatly. "And I regretted…that I was not at all bothered by killing him. I always thought less of myself that I enjoyed killing him."

"Hermione," he began, his voice soft and low and forceful. She went still and he could tell he had her full attention. "After what he did to you, all of us would have enjoyed killing him. Resurrecting Viktor Krum so that we could all have a turn at slaughtering the bastard was a fond fantasy, not only of mine but of Lupin, Potter, and all of the Weasleys."

"The Weasleys wanted to kill him because he hurt Ginny," she replied softly. She would normally never reveal such insecurity but the alcohol had loosened her tongue.

His eyes narrowed. Did she truly think that she mattered so little? If so, then her parents' attitudes toward her had scarred her far more deeply than she realized.

"Krum stunned her for walking in on him and what he was about to do to you and then bound her," he said trying to keep his voice from showing the anger he felt. Anger that she had been hurt, anger that she valued herself so little, anger that he had to deal with this, anger that it was so important to him. "She was a bit bruised from her encounter with him. That hardly warrants murderous thoughts. Lupin said that when he found the two of you, you were silent. Miss Weasley was telling you to undo the binding spell on her but you seemed catatonic, completely unable to move. The way he described the scene…" he didn't want to finish but decided that she had to know what others had seen. "He told me that you were huddled against the fireplace, staring ahead silently. Krum was on the floor a few feet away, dead. Your one of your eyes was swollen nearly shut and even from the door he could tell that the fragile bones in your face had been shattered. Your right hand clutched your wand, despite the fact that your wrist was broken, and your left arm was completely limp. He said that there were bloodstains all over the room and that none of the blood had come from Ginevra or Krum. There was a small pool of blood around you."

"Remus never told me that," she said faintly. "Neither did Ginny. I mean, I was fine eventually…I'd just lost so much blood and I was so frightened. I couldn't function. I heard Ginny calling me, sort of…it was very distant. That time seems so long ago now."

"And when it was done, you were suddenly unbreakable. It was almost frightening for your friends, I believe, but they were proud of you. From what Lupin has told me, Ginevra mostly spoke to him about it and how it affected her. She couldn't bring herself to remind you of what happened. Lupin felt similarly. That is how they became so close. They spoke only to one another about what had happened that night." It seemed the alcohol had loosened both their tongues.

"Well at least something positive came out of that experience. Remus and Ginny are truly happy. …But I still feel a bit off that I was so happy that he was dead," she said tiredly.

"That is something you must deal with on your own and in your own time, Hermione. Perhaps you will begin to understand that relief and happiness are not the same emotion." He turned his attention back to the fire, remembering the first man he'd killed and wondering what he'd felt. It had been so long ago. He had felt relief, he recalled. Relief that the torture was at an end. His father was dead and no one could hurt him….except himself, as it turned out. The irony of it was mind-boggling.

Hermione was quiet, caught in the wave of all that had happened since her fifth year ended. Viktor, the war, the small skirmishes fought so frequently and so viciously. Killing people that had once been fellow students and struggling to keep her head above water in the senseless chaos. And then it was over. They'd survived. It was over; they could all move on with their lives. And they all had. Now they had slipped into some odd but welcome sort of normality and the only real remnants of the war were strong friendships and a profound gratitude for life that seemed to echo throughout the halls of Hogwarts. Theirs was a generation forged into steel by a war that started when they were children and ended when they were either dead or heroes. She was over come by a powerful yawn and exhaustion hit her hard. "Sir?" she mumbled.

"Hm?" he rumbled distantly, still staring at the fire.

"I'm a bit tired. Do you mind terribly if…I…fall…" her breathing evened out and she snuggled against him properly. Snape looked down at her, startled.

"Asleep," he finished wryly for her. He brushed some curls out of her eyes and smiled down at her. After a moment he tugged the afghan draped over the back of the couch onto her sleeping form and tucked it around her. He went back to gazing at the roaring fire, absently stroking her shoulder, reflecting on how strong she was; how strong they had all been. Even Potter and Weasley. The thought made him smile. Who would have ever envisioned him extolling Potter's virtues? Within moments his hand was still and he too was asleep.

Two hours later a ringing noise punched through the fuzz of Hermione's brain. She was comfortable and warm, though her myriad injuries ached a bit. She reached out for her bag and dug for her cell phone.

"Hello?" she mumbled into the phone. "Vanya? An hour? Yeah, great. Thanks. You got the Jeep? Oh, Land Rover. Same thing. Fantastic. See you then. Dosvedanya." Hermione sighed deeply, ready to go back to sleep, but her stomach growled loudly.

"You should eat something," Snape told her without opening his eyes.

"Would that require moving? Because I'm really warm and comfortable where I am."

"Ah yes, but your stomach growling loudly does make it a bit difficult for me to nap," he protested.

"Mmph," she grunted.

"How very eloquent." Snape squeezed her arm gently. "Food, Hermione."

"Bugger," she grumbled, sitting up and passing a hand over her face. He smiled smugly and Hermione shot him a glare before bursting out in laughter as his stomach rumbled as well.

She went to the kitchen, shivering slightly as she moved away from his warmth, and grabbed the fresh fruit Vanya had left, as well as some cheese and crackers. She returned to the living room and took a seat on the couch, facing him. She tossed him an apple, which he caught without hesitation.

"That could be construed as assault," he pointed out.

"Only if I'd hit you," she countered. "Vanya will be here in an hour. I'll start locking in the coordinates of the temple. We're not too far, I should think, from the area where the magical lockout begins. Vasili purposely located his home here." Snape nodded in agreement. Hermione looked away from him pointedly. "Severus…if it comes down to it and I have to kill Regina…" She'd come a long way from the days when killing made her squeamish. She didn't enjoy it but she'd do it if she had to.

"I'll do it, if it comes to that," he said firmly. "She is not your responsibility." His voice was hard and final.

"She's not yours either," Hermione shot back. "So don't do that duty and honor-bound thing on me. If she's got a knife pointed at me, I'm really not going to wait for you so that you can take care of business."

He glared at her. "Do not take that tone with me—"

"If you say young lady I'm going to break this vodka bottle over your head," she warned.

"I was going to say your name, actually, since I happen to know it," he said harshly. She stiffened and he regretted his words instantly.

"Very mature," she said scathingly. She stood and turned her back on him, controlling her anger as well as she could, and walked out of the room.

Snape took a few minutes to berate himself for being a first-class asshole before going to find her. He found her in the dining room standing in front of a picture window and staring at the snow. Snape approached her silently from behind. He could see her hugging herself and he wrapped his arms around her with unnatural speed, giving her no time to react. Hermione struggled for a moment but his grip only tightened.

"What the hell are you doing?" she spat.

"Miss Granger…Hermione…please calm yourself for a moment. I'm sorry. I had no right to say what I did. I apologize for being so thoughtlessly hurtful. Believe it or not, it's not something that comes naturally to me anymore and I feel quite like a heartless monster." He braced himself, noting that if she really wanted to, she could get him in the shins. It had been a long time since he'd let his attitude disintegrate into reflexive cruelty and it felt no better now than it had in the past. In fact it felt a lot worse. He was not a nice man, but neither was he intentionally hurtful any longer.

Hermione relaxed marginally and sighed. "It's alright. It _was_ a low blow, however. You're usually much more intelligent about your insults. Except that time in my fourth year with the teeth. That was pretty low too."

"Yes, well…" He had no real response. He had been a spy and it had been his job to be cruel to her.

Hermione allowed herself to lean back against him. For a moment she wondered if she was becoming too comfortable with him. However 'too comfortable' implied that she had a problem with being so close to him and she, quite simply, had no problems with it at all. She tried to release her anger and remind herself of all that life had taught her about patience and dealing with shortcomings.

"Don't worry, I never confused the actor with the role. Not to mention…well, my teeth were pretty big. As for the name thing…it wouldn't have hurt me if it weren't true. I need to get over it like a big girl," she said dryly. Every day was a work in progress.

"No," he said with uncharacteristic kindness. "You don't. You have a right to be angry about it, you know. You don't have to be Zen-like and accepting about everything. Merlin knows I'm not. And you were right about Regina…she made her own decisions, as I told Albus a few days ago in a strikingly familiar conversation about how he was not responsible for her choices." His voice had taken on its usual sour and mocking tone, but it was directed at himself, not her. Her head was tucked beneath his chin and she watched him watching her in the window.

Hermione grinned and he could see it reflected in the glass. "Hypocrite," she teased.

"Indeed. Can we go back to the living room now? I'm freezing." The dry tone was belied by the gentle expression on his face. She smiled at him but her face was shadowed.

"Yeah," she replied softly, turning away from the window. The smile faded. She didn't look at him as she brushed past him to return to the living room. Snape frowned unhappily, irritated with himself. His irritation only increased when it occurred to him that hurting her feelings weighed much more heavily on his mind than dealing with Regina de la Gris. He saw himself heading into deep shit…and there wasn't a thing he could really do to stop it.

And he wasn't entirely sure he wanted to try.


	9. Chapter 8

Okay, Tammy was my super-quick reviewer. Do you want chocolate chip or sugar cookies? I think the Snape/Regina/Voldemort thing took skeezy cheating to a new level, eh? No, skeezy is not a word in the traditional sense but, much like 'poo's,' I happen to like it.SlytherinsDarkAngel: Alcohol is such a lovely social lubricant, don't you agree? It's great because there's a point where you're more daring but not downright sloshingly drunk… Liquid courage!  
Danielle: I expect reviews when you get back! It'll be so odd without you…  
AveryGoodun: They shall indeed meet Miss de la Gris…but not for about two more chapters… I hope she lives up to expectations. I like her; I hope you do too. But not too much 'cause she don't get no happy endin'.  
Lil: Thirty-seven sounded good to me… And I give up on last chapter. Too damned many errors. I must've been drunk or something. But thanks for the heads-up.  
Fiona McKinnon: Yep, he just beat the hell out of her, don't worry. Heh, anyone who's read my Remus/Hermione series of stories knows that I'm at least somewhat realistic with the post-traumatic issues associated with rape--for me to incorporate that would require a much longer story that would be a bit too involved for my tastes. Too many interwoven storylines…I'd confuse myself. But I assume you've read some of my other fics since you refer to Hermione as Mya in your reviews, which is something I just noticed.  
SoulSearching06: Thank you so much for taking the time to review! Piccolos are actually really neat. It's my running joke with my harp teacher whenever I have to transport the bugger: "Why didn't my mom make me take up the piccolo, dammit?"  
Karen (aka Fire): Thanks in advance for the review!  
Duj: Lol, my perception of the insult was totally different! I saw it as a very cruel comment because he'd taken a newly discovered personal sore spot and jabbed at it rather thoughtlessly. Hermione has made peace as best she can with the fact that her parents are the way they are, but the scene where she was looking at their photo was kind of a hint that it still hurts a lot that they don't acknowledge her or include her in their love. Also, I specifically tried to note that a) Snape has mellowed and is not a particularly cruel guy anymore and b) he's kinda got a thing for her, making him feel even more guilty about hurting her feelings. As for the language, I'm not sure specifically what you're referring to (he cursed three times, if I'm not mistaken) but I agree with Chris Rock: "Show me a grown man who's never said 'shit' and I'll show you someone who's full of shit." I find it hard to believe that someone with Snape's disposition and life experience doesn't even curse to himself. And I have the advantage of not being constrained by the fact that these are technically kids' books…as long as I rate it M, I can throw in some vulgarity and sex. I do appreciate the constructive criticism; it forced me to articulate why I wrote certain things the way I did which ended up being useful when I edited another chapter and when I decided the final direction of the characters in this fic. I want to warn you now that I have indeed taken liberties with both characters and since this is a lighthearted 'romance' fic, there will almost certainly be sex involved (but not for a long while 'cause I'm well known for my characters being slower than molasses about getting it together). I hope it doesn't deter you from reading, but I understand if it does. I'm in the midst of reading your fics and I wonder that you would bother with my stories when yours are so good! Keep writing! Do you write any original fiction? You have a lot of talent.  
Mundungus42: Thank you so very much for your very kind review. I'd love to say I went all-out in-depth for research on this piece…but I play the harp. And have played it for a very long time, so I'm pretty familiar with the instrument and its history. (Had to cross-check a couple of things, though). I chose pedal harp because you can't play most of the pieces I've included on lever or Celtic. Hermione's repertoire is quite different from mine, but I decided that she would probably be a more mature and serious musician than myself and more inclined to classical than the jazz and improvisation that I tend towards. I think I'll shoot myself before ever playing Pachelbel's Canon again. I've done my damndest to avoid using Salzedo and Andres because they're the default harp composers. You may be sad that I've included Satie's Gymnopedie No. 1 (possibly the most overplayed piece of music ever) but it was that or First Gnoisienne and for my purposes Gymnopedie worked better. It's better-known and less complex…you'll see later why that's important. I hope you continue to enjoy my story and keep coming back for more…I've always been quite a fan of your stories!

Also, I had to upload last chapter 3 times because of errors and I still missed one that Lil caught. Thank you's to Draccy, AveryGoodun, and Lil: you guys are worth a million betas.

Once again, thanks to everyone who took the time to review! I'm somewhere around 46 reviews and I'm trying to top 119…help me out!

aimes

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Vanya Barokov was a tall bear of a man. He shook Snape's hand gruffly and hugged Hermione like a favorite niece.

Snape had removed the warming charm as planned when the Russian arrived but the living room was still comfortable from the roaring fire.

"I have everything you need," he told her. "Supplies enough for two, a good vehicle, and legal documentation to be in this country. You will be fine, I think, if you don't get yourself killed."

"I have no intention of dying young," Hermione assured him. He laughed jovially as he patted her shoulder.

"Ah, young Hermione, I have something for you," he said suddenly. He pulled a beaten letter out of his pocket. "Here. Old Vasili, he asked me to give it to you when you received that necklace."

Hermione looked at him curiously as she opened the letter and began to read.

_**Hermione—**_

**_If you read this letter, you have chosen to accept your gift. You are the best student I've had the pleasure of knowing. I cannot be with you on this momentous occasion for even as I write this, I am dying._**  
_**I find myself wishing I could see you settled, little one. I look at the child you were and the young lady you are and I imagine the woman you will be very soon. Or perhaps she is the woman you have already become…but to me you will always be my little girl. I find myself wondering who you will wed and whether you will have children. I selfishly want your children to know me as their grandfather; I want to spoil them and coddle them and be there on the unforgettable day that one of them realizes she has inherited your gift. Yes, you will have a little girl, I think, one as untamed and brilliant as yourself. But I will not be present to meet her.  
To my greatest student, to the girl I would have as my own daughter, I leave you the Italian Harp. That exquisite instrument upon which you amazed me on the first day we met is now yours, child. Play it well for the rest of your days and think often of me. And when your little girl wanders to the instrument and plucks its strings for the first time… think of me and let her music light the world.  
Unparalleled beauty with unparalleled talent. Oh, the places you'll go!**_

_**--Vasili**_

_**PS: Warn the man you marry that I shall haunt him for the rest of his days if he does not treat you well. But that will probably be the least of his worries once you are through with him!**_

"Vanya," she said faintly, "he gave me the harp."

Vanya blanched then gave a great belly laugh. "Wonderful! You deserve it. When you return from your journey, you will contact me. We will arrange to take the harp wherever you wish! Now, you sleep and leave early, dushenkanya. Never travel at night in this place, it is dangerous. The large bedroom is the only one with a fire place. You should take that one and have your friend sleep in the living room," he ordered. "I must go. Do you have the money?"

"Here's a wire transfer receipt. The money's in your account," she replied, still staring at the letter.

Vanya took it and pulled out a cell phone. After a short conversation he hung up and smiled widely. "Good! That is taken care of. I will see you soon, Hermione." He glared at Snape for a moment. "Take good care of her," he rumbled threateningly. Snape nodded silently and Vanya seemed satisfied.

"Goodbye, young Hermione. Be safe." With another crushing handshake to Snape and a bear hug to Hermione he was gone. Hermione sank to her knees and gasped for air after he released her and let out a soft groan.

"Like I wasn't bruised enough." Snape snorted and offered her his hand. Hermione took it and he hauled her to her feet. He noted with relief that she did not seem at all upset with him anymore.

"We should check the equipment," he advised. Hermione nodded as she tucked the letter in her bag and picked up her coat and scarf. In a few moments she had finished tugging on her boots and stood.

"Ready?" He nodded as he finished tying his scarf. Hermione picked up the keys Vanya had left on the counter and they went outside. Hermione got in the driver's side of the Land Rover, switching it on with a flick of her wrist.

"Nice. He's even plugged a nav system in here." She hooked the PalmPilot up to the navigational system and aligned the coordinates. Snape was checking the gear in the back of the truck. He tossed a blanket off and picked up an Uzi.

"He certainly left us prepared," Snape commented, checking the cartridges. Food, water, blankets, weapons…

"He must think we're going into a war zone," Hermione said wryly.

"All of Russia has the potential to be a war zone," Snape pointed out. "Especially if you're not welcome, as we are almost certainly not."

"Well we're safe from Muggle conflicts as soon as we enter the area of the Temple," Hermione responded. "Oh, speaking of which…" She pulled out her necklace and gave it to him.

"What is this?" he asked, unsure.

"It's the Gold Harpist. It should be strong enough to get you into the magical zone despite the fact that it's not yours, especially if I give you the power." She turned off the engine and grabbed her PalmPilot. "Let's go inside and I'll explain to you how it will work."

He followed her inside silently, running his fingers over the pendant, examining the detailing. She did not head into the living room but instead went up a large flight of stairs to a bedroom. One wall was a huge picture window, looking out on the snowy forest behind the house. A huge bed faced the window, and a fireplace faced the doorway. Hermione strode directly to the fireplace and began a fire and cast a heating charm before turning to him.

"If we leave in the early hours of the morning, we should reach a bit earlier than Gina does. She can use the Gold Harpist to enter the area and even the temple, with some considerable work, but the Eternal Harpist is required to unlock the map that will show her to the Chord of Dreams." She bit her lip, thinking for a moment before nodding to herself. She needed to test her theory about sharing her musical gift. Hermione brushed past him as she left the room to warm, heading back downstairs into the living room and grabbing more food from the kitchen on her way. Once inside the living room, she kicked off her boots and tugged off her scarf and coat, sitting cross legged on the couch and munching on a granola bar and yogurt.

"Come here," she ordered, knowing that he'd followed her. He raised an eyebrow before obeying, sitting across from her on the couch and waiting.

She put down her food bit her lip again, deciding. "I think you'll need to take off your sweater and unbutton your shirt. This will work better with skin contact." She leaned over and rummaged in her bag, pulling out a black cord. Hermione carefully threaded the Gold Harpist onto the cord and waited for Snape to finish.

Snape slipped off his sweater and unbuttoned the first few buttons of his shirt. Hermione leaned forward and tied the cord around his neck, letting the pendant rest against his chest. Then she leaned back and put her hand over the harpist.

"Relax and open up to me. I can't do this if you're fighting me—on any level." Snape took a breath and concentrated on lowering the instinctive magical barriers he possessed and when Hermione saw his body relax slightly, she began.

Snape opened his eyes to see her murmuring something under her breath, eyes closed, concentrating. Warmth suffused his body and he felt something spark from her hand into the pendant into him. It lingered for a moment: a sharp buzzing that filled his ears and seemed to run through his blood, before it disappeared. Hermione removed her hand but the pendant stayed warm. She looked tired, skin pale, eyes hollowed but burning.

"Let's see if this worked," she mumbled. She got to her feet unsteadily and he rose as well, taking her by the arm to support her. Hermione led him to the harp and made him sit. She placed her hands on his shoulders and leaned against him slightly, still weak.

"I cannot play the harp," he pointed out, voice slightly irritated. He was out of his element and it did not make him happy. Hermione ignored him and tugged it back to rest against his shoulder.

"Relax," she said soothingly in his ear. "Focus." She put his hands on the harp. "Play."

He tried to listen to her, taking deep breaths. Without warning, his hands began to move of their own accord, playing music that sounded vaguely familiar to him but that he'd never learned to play. Hell, he couldn't even remember the name. He let it flow through him more easily, concentrating, focusing the power and the energy, and the piece evened out. Suddenly he was playing with sharp clarity and precise pace, as though he'd been born with a harp. His feet moved instinctively to change pedal positions and he felt the music course through him. Some part of his mind analytically registered the power of the music as a magic separate from his own and took note of how to control and channel it.

There was a soft whimper behind him and he replaced the harp, turning just in time to see Hermione crumple to the floor. Her skin was almost translucent, and her eyes were unfocused. He lifted her into his arms quickly and carried her upstairs, placing her on the bed and checking her pupils.

"Miss Granger? What happened? Hermione?" he shook her gently and suddenly she slipped her hands into his shirt and gripped his shoulders. Snape felt a pull and Hermione's eyes snapped open. Color rushed back into her face and she released him, slumping back onto the bed.

"Hermione?"

"Sorry," she mumbled. "I've never done it before. And I've never seen it done with a wizard. Especially not one as strong as you. I didn't realize you could hold onto it like that and direct it."

"I...I'm sorry," he apologized. "I had no idea I was draining you."

"You were making the spell stronger…I wasn't ready…the backlash hit me hard. You didn't drain me, but it takes a lot of energy to control the spell and your natural ability as a wizard just kept amplifying it. I hit a breaking point where I couldn't control the anything anymore."

"Are you alright now?" He touched her forehead in concern and checked her pupils again as well as her pulse.

"Yes, I'm fine. Just…tired. You did better than I could have imagined." He stroked her hair gently, massaging her scalp.

"What was I playing?" he asked, his voice low and hypnotic as he tried to soothe and distract her. It was obvious that the incident had frightened her; he imagined it had felt akin to suffocating under the weight of the magic.

"Erik Satie's Gymnopedie Number One. Lovely, isn't it? Your subconscious mind chose it. You'll make it into the complex just fine. I'll use my Silver Harpist to get me in. The magic will sense my ability and allow me through…it will allow you through because you're sharing my gift. It will assume…"

"Assume what?"

"Among us, we share our gift only with those we love. Most can only share with the Eternal pendants…only witches and wizards can share using any of the other pendants. Thus, it's a very sacred thing. The magic protecting the area will assume you're my lover." She smiled wanly.

"Well…thank you for sharing it with me," he said awkwardly. "Especially as it caused you such discomfort."

Hermione nodded. "We should sleep more," she said softly. "There are pajamas of Vasili's in the closet that you can borrow."

"Indeed," came the simple response.

She wrapped an arm around him and pulled herself into a sitting position. Snape helped her up and she led him to the closet, where she tossed him a pair of black silk pajamas.

"These should fit about right," she said. "You might have to adjust them a bit with your wand."

She turned her back to him and pulled off her sweater and tank top. She shimmied out of her jeans, and reached back to unhook her bra. She grimaced slightly.

"Erm…sir?" she said sheepishly. He turned and saw her facing away from him clad only in her underwear. If he had been able to see her face, it would have been bright red. But then, even if he could see her face, he was too distracted by other parts of her to pay much attention. He fought down the flush in his own face and mentally snapped himself in line. "Could you maybe unhook my bra, please?" Snape hesitated before taking a step toward her and gingerly unclasping the black satin. He turned his back immediately, and Hermione grabbed a green silk pajama top, slipping it over her head.

"Yeesh, what is it with men and green?" she grumbled. "I'm starting to look like the poster girl for Slytherin."

Snape turned and shot her a smirk. "It seems your teacher had good taste," he gloated. Hermione fought the urge to give a rude gesture. This shirt came only to mid-thigh on her, unlike Snape's, which had been almost knee length and for a moment she felt exposed.

"Would you like me to adjust the pajama pants for you?" he asked quietly, noting the flash of embarrassment on her face.

"No," she replied tiredly. "I don't have the energy to put them on. I think I need to lie down." Her voice got softer with every word and he realized that it was difficult for her to speak coherently.

She trudged back to the bed feeling disjointed and crawled in without further comment. Snape followed her out and hesitated before heading for the door.

"Oh stop," she said irritably. "I still have no intention of jumping you and this bed is even bigger than yours. Since you don't hog the covers, just sleep here. Besides, I hate sleeping by myself in this house…I always used to have Vasili's dog with me. This place is too big."

"Are you comparing me to a poodle, Miss Granger?"

"A pit bull, more like," she retorted. He laughed as he leaned against the doorframe. "For the record, though, he was a Siberian Husky. Beautiful eyes, that one." Hermione curled on her side facing him, her eyes questioning.

"I simply wish to put out the fire in the living room. It would defeat the point of this little journey to die in a house fire before we stopped Regina," he said dryly. Hermione smiled slightly.

Snape went downstairs and snuffed the fire out quickly. As an afterthought he went to the kitchen and poured a glass of water. He carried it upstairs, scoffing at himself. He was going completely soft, he decided, placing the water on the nightstand next to Hermione.

"Thank you," she mumbled. Her back was to him and he was slightly startled by the sound of her voice. He'd thought her to be asleep.

A thousand snarky comments ran through his head but he voiced none of them. "You're welcome."

He slid into bed next to her and reclined against the pillows, hands folded on his chest as he let his mind wander.

"Severus?" she said hesitantly before he was too deep in his reverie.

"Hm?"

"Would you rub my head like you did before? It felt really good." She cringed slightly, expecting sarcasm, but he just glanced over at her briefly before lifting a hand and burying it in her hair. He began to massage her scalp and run his fingers through her curls without paying much attention, automatically avoiding the bruise from her encounter with Regina.

"Feels so good," she sighed. "Thanks…" she drifted off, burrowed under the covers, smiling as she slipped into a sweet dream.

Snape looked over at her sleeping form once more before returning to his thoughts. His mind replayed the sensation of the music running through him yet again. It felt so…alive. Like the music was something sentient and begging for release. Within it he'd also felt another presence. He was fairly sure it had been Hermione's magic: at once so gentle and so powerful. It felt rather like a tiger, he decided. Gorgeous and breathtaking, all soft fur and brilliant color and sinewy muscle but with a decided set of powerful teeth and claws that could shred through metal. He looked over at her peaceful face one last time before letting himself sleep. He knew he would dream of her…and he rather looked forward to it.


	10. Chapter 9

So here's a really long A/N to precede a really long chapter.  
Tammy was once again my super-quick reviewer. How about orange chocolate chip cookies this time?  
Lil, Fiona McKinnon: Here's more for you, ladies. Update Fairy attacks!  
Avery Goodun: I'm glad you could envision her power; that was my goal and I'm very excited that it turned out well!  
SlytherinsDarkAngel: Love might be a bit premature, but they're definitely feeling the attraction!  
LovetheLab: The road trip is ahead…as is a crash course in the history of harps. Your road trip comment made me realize that it was a perfect opportunity for that!  
Karen: I loved your beautifully detailed and thorough review! Thank you very much for it!  
Here's the next chapter. Again, I'm trying to beat my previous review record so leave me some love. Also, anyone who wants further resources for harp info (don't know why you would, but hey, whatever floats your boat) go ahead and email me. I've got tons of references. Tons.

--aimes

* * *

Hermione woke up warm. It was rather surprising, actually, considering the fire had died down in the night and temperatures in Siberia tend toward the ludicrously freezing. Even with a heating charm in place, she wouldn't expect to be this warm. She opened her eyes with a soft sigh, wishing she could sleep longer. The source of her warmth shifted against her with a low rumble and she felt her hair move with his breath.

Hermione raised an eyebrow as she realized she was securely enfolded in the arms of Severus Snape. He was lucky—she'd flipped out when she'd woken up in Ron's arms. But that had been soon after Viktor. She'd felt trapped in Ron's arms and the feeling of confinement had invaded her dreams making her wake up screaming and struggling. But then, she was a different woman now than she had been a year ago.

"Sir?" she said softly. She put her hand on his arm, which was locked around her waist, and patted him gently. Snape awoke with a start and gripped her more tightly, body tensed and ready to react.

"Air!" Hermione gasped as the arm around her chest tightened. He released her immediately, confused.

"Hermione?" he asked, voice gravelly.

"It's morning," she replied. "We should leave to stay ahead of Gina." She felt him stretch slightly as he rolled away from her and she sat up in bed, running a hand through her hair.

"It's hopeless," Snape said snarkily, as she tried to tame her curly locks.

"Thanks ever so much for that amazing insight," she shot back, making a face. She shrugged, deciding it would be hidden under her beanie anyways.

"Erm…Miss Granger," Snape said hesitantly. She looked over at him and he avoided her gaze. "I'm sorry about…" he gestured at the bed.

Hermione laughed. "There was no jumping involved and you kept me pretty warm. I think I can find it in my heart to forgive you," she said wryly. "I'd probably be angrier if I'd woken up with frostbite because you refused to touch me."

Snape seemed relieved as he walked past her to the bathroom. Too late, Hermione realized that his apologetic speech had been a distraction to enable him to hijack the bathroom. She let out an indignant noise and glowered powerfully at the closed door. When he emerged, fully dressed and showered twenty minutes later, Hermione was wrapped in the heavy blankets from the bed, dozing as she waited. She stopped long enough to give him an impressive glare (which only won her an amused smirk) before proceeding to the bathroom herself.

Thirty minutes later, she too was showered and dressed. She'd found a small trunk in the corner of Vasili's closet that had odd clothes she'd left behind on the occasions she'd stayed the night. A few quick transfigurations and she wore jeans, a long sleeved turtleneck shirt and a long sleeved sweater. Her hair was dried with a quick spell, and she pulled on socks before walking back into the bedroom.

Snape glanced up from pulling his boots on. "It's barely four in the morning, Miss Granger," he said pointedly.

"Yes, well, I'd like to be as far ahead of Regina the Unstable as possible, thank you," she retorted mildly as she grabbed her own boots. She went over to the bed and pulled the Palm Pilot out from under a pillow. Snape gave her an odd look and she shrugged.

"I didn't want it to freeze or anything," she said a bit defensively.

He snorted inelegantly and concentrated on wrapping his scarf securely around his neck. Hermione stuck two fingers up at him while his back was turned and proceeded switching on the Palm Pilot.

"I could remove points for that sort of insolent behavior," he told her without turning, voice amused.

"Oh bugger off," she replied as she exited the bedroom with him behind her. They stopped briefly in the living room to grab their bags and Hermione took a moment to cover the harp.

Another fifteen minutes was devoted to breakfast. Hermione dug through the cupboards and quickly tossed together some chicken soup while Snape sliced bread and cut fruit. After a short and fairly silent meal punctuated by satisfied sighs as they worked through three cups of coffee each, they cleared the dishes. Hermione smiled slightly as she thought about how her mum would react if she knew that Hermione was eating soup for breakfast. Probably similarly to how she'd react if she knew that Hermione had slept in the same bed as her tall, dark, and snarky professor.

Snape noted the faint air of amusement and briefly wondered what was so entertaining but made no comment. After the dishes were washed and put away, Hermione dug the keys out of her bag and they went out to the car.

They got in the Land Rover after a brief argument about who would drive. Snape eventually deferred to Hermione, who argued that she actually had a valid international license (as though it mattered), and she hopped in the driver's seat, switching it on and adjusting the mirrors. After that was done, she pulled out the Palm Pilot and plugged it into the navigational system of the Land Rover, lining up the coordinates. She was grateful that Norman had left a file describing how to link the Palm Pilot up to nearly any navigational system. Hermione herself was fairly unfamiliar with the devices and rarely had occasion to drive. With the route guidance loading, she dug around in her bag for her CD player and popped a disc into the car's sound system. Within a few moments she was singing along cheerfully to Bush.

"What is this hideous cacophony?" Snape grumbled.

"The chemicals between us, the walls that come between us, lying in our bed…" she sang, undeterred. He groaned and leaned his head back against the seat. It promised to be a long ride with quite possibly the most hideous music he'd ever had the displeasure of hearing. It rather figured that she wouldn't actually listen to the beautiful music she played.

For the next hour or so they drove, with Hermione occasionally singing along and bobbing her head with the music and Snape dozing in the passenger seat. She made minor course corrections using the navigational system, which led her unerringly into the thick, snowy forests. Hermione idly reflected that the forests of Siberia had enough wood to build Noah's Ark a hundred times over. She fingered the pendant at her throat idly as she drove. Out of the blue a question entered her mind and she turned down the music abruptly.

"Why did she choose the harp? How did she know about it?" Hermione asked.

Snape didn't open his eyes. "Pardon?"

"I mean the harp is not something you can learn quickly and I was led to believe by Iliana Postrov, one of the examiners, that Regina can also play Celtic. That means she's played for a long time. Why did she choose the harp? At what point did she take it up? Is her ability magically enhanced?"

"Hard as it is to believe, Miss Granger, wizards also appreciate fine music. And Albus is quite familiar with the Muggle world, including its music. However that is beyond the point—harps, if I am not mistaken, played an integral part in the ritual music played in ancient Egypt to invoke magic. Regina and I discussed the uses of harpistry in ancient magic."

Hermione looked over at him, a bit startled. "It never even occurred to me that the harp might play a role in the magical world. Although it is logical. I mean, the oldest known depictions of the harp do occur in Egyptian tombs. But that was a long time ago and the harp has changed drastically since then. Ignoring the Celtic or lever harps, which can't play the fiddly bits with the rapidly changing keys that are so integral to much of Western classical music, you're left with the double action pedal harp, right? Why would Professor Dumbledore want his daughter to play that? It's so far away from the Egyptian harp."

He opened his eyes and raised an eyebrow at her, which she took as a sign to continue speaking.

"Okay, so the Egyptian harp was bow-shaped and had maybe half a dozen strings or so. The range of sound was pretty limited, but that apparently didn't make a difference for its use in ritual magic. Presumably because there were other instruments accompanying, but whatever, it's incidental, right? Today's double action pedal harp can have forty-seven strings and seven octaves, not including half-seventh at the top or base zero, depending on the harp. It has an independent sound box and a support column, as well as a resonating baseboard. It's also got seven pedals with three positions for flat, natural, and sharp. Hence the double action—the strings get tightened twice between the rotating double bracket and get pulled into sharps. One half-rotation leaves you in naturals, and no bracket rotation gives you flats. The Egyptian and the double action pedal harps are completely different instruments, by all rights. I mean the Celtic harp is a bit closer to the original Egyptian. It doesn't switch octaves and the original had ten strings. Later versions had almost thirty, but you never see forty-seven string Celtics. Lever harps are just intermediates between pure Celtic folk harps and small pedal harps." Hermione took a breath, wondering if she was talking too much, but one glance at Snape said he was absorbing everything she said intently. "Right, so what I'm saying is that I don't understand what would possess Professor Dumbledore to introduce his daughter to an instrument that diverged from its alleged magical roots well over three thousand years ago. The Egyptian harp was around 2500 BC and Irish harps began their slow evolution in 800AD. The double action pedal harp, which is what Regina and I play, was invented in the early 1800's."

Snape opened his eyes and looked at her seriously. "Interesting. When I asked Regina why Albus had chosen the harp for her, she merely mentioned its magical roots. And its roots are powerful indeed—the Egyptian harp is the only instrument I know of that was capable of invoking Dark Magic, which they called 'netherworld magic.' She also mentioned a name, a friend of Albus' if I'm not mistaken, though I don't know from where. Lily Laskine. He has a Muggle picture of himself with her in front of a harp. I know only because it is the only Muggle picture I've seen in his chambers."

"Lily Laskine…" Hermione racked her memory as she drove on autopilot. A quick glance at the clock would have told her that they'd been talking for over half an hour. "Lily Laskine. Paris Conservatory! She was a prodigy, or so I'm told. One of the most gifted individuals to ever touch an instrument and a professor at the Paris Conservatoire—the best school of harpistry in the world. Well, there was Salzedo's school, but the Conservatoire is better. Some of the most prodigious harpists of our time have taught there—Hasselmans, Laskine, even Tournier, if I'm not mistaken. Madame Laskine died in the late 1980's. I suppose that's why Professors Dumbledore and McGonagall chose the harp for Regina. And it's not impossible that Madame Laskine was a witch, though I've never heard anything along those lines." Hermione shrugged thoughtfully. "If Regina had Madame Laskine as her teacher from the time she was a child…well, it only makes sense that she'd be so good. She has talent, mind you, and lots of it, but she's not a virtuoso if you know what I mean. But I've heard that Madame Laskine could teach a deaf man how to play the fragile pieces of Ravel."

"Regina named her cat Ravel," Snape said. He sounded distracted and Hermione knew he was processing this new information.

"Makes sense then, doesn't it? How ironic that something so…_non magical_ would end up being one of the most powerful bits of magic Regina could run across. Just goes to show what sticking with an instrument can get you," Hermione said dryly. She switched the music back on and turned her attention back to driving. They were approaching the outskirts of the Temple area but that could mean they would arrive in mere minutes or another hour. Hermione went back to singing along with the music as she drove.

"I have climbed highest mountain, I have run through the fields, only to be with you, only to be with you…" Snape looked over at her, knowing he'd heard the song a long time ago and trying to place it. Probably in some Muggle café in London. He avoided excessive contact with the Muggle world but found that it was a nice place to escape and be anonymous. Hence the apartment in London.

Hermione grinned, not looking at him as she sang but directing the words toward him.

"I have run, I have crawled, I have scaled these city walls, these city walls, only to be with you…but I still haven't found what I'm looking for. But I still haven't found what I'm looking for. I have kissed honey lips, felt the healing in her fingertips…It burned like fire, this burning desire…" Snape closed his eyes, listening to her sing off-key but with enthusiasm. An errant thought of what else she might do enthusiastically with that mouth flitted into his head and he decisively squelched all such images. He was now past Deep Shit and heading full speed into Very Deep Shit.

"I have spoke with the tongue of angels, I have held the hand of a devil…It was warm in the night, I was cold as a stone," she winked at him teasingly, now carried away with the need to belt out the song at the top of her lungs. "But I still haven't found what I'm looking for…But I still haven't found what I'm looking for…" She threw her head back as she tried to harmonize with the line. Her attempt was close but unsuccessful and Snape was about to ask how she could play the harp so well and have such an instinctive feel for music whilst being unable to sing on key for the life of her. He supposed that it was unrealistic to expect her talent in harpistry to carry over into all types and aspects of music.

Before he could speak, Hermione suddenly grabbed the wheel tightly while the navigational system beeped urgently at her. She slid a hand into his shirt, and Snape felt the music flow into him, vibrating like a living being. Hermione's foot was firmly on the brakes as she murmured quietly; her free hand shifted the gears into Park. Snape felt something slam into him and he blacked out. A shockwave of magic hit Hermione and she fought to stay conscious. She managed to kill the engine before slumping against the window, breathing shallowly.

Hermione snapped out of it with a headache. "Shit, I've spent the last few days with a perpetual headache," she groused.

"And now I too share that particular joy," Snape responded as he came around. He looked at her with concern. "Are you alright?"

"I think so," she said softly. He took her hand and replaced it on his chest, allowing her to draw the power back into herself. Hermione took only part of it, leaving some with him and shrugged when he shot her an odd look.

"I don't want you to get violently thrown out if you no longer have any of the power within you," she said with a slight smile. "I'm not as bad as last night because you weren't pulling."

Snape nodded seriously even as he scanned her face. "How long have we been unconscious?"

Hermione checked the nav system and realized it was no longer functioning. With a grunt of displeasure she shifted to check her watch, sitting up straight in the process.

"Ten minutes, near as I can guess. I'm going to go out on a limb here and say we've entered the magical zone."

"Brilliant deduction," he responded caustically. "Does the vehicle still function?"

Hermione found the key and tried to turn over the engine. It sputtered twice before kicking in.

"Apparently it does." She picked up the Palm Pilot from where it had fallen and switched it on. "And the nav system on this lovely little piece of technology is also still working." She handed it to him. "You're going to have to direct me," she told him.

Snape raised an eyebrow as he familiarized himself with the device as quickly as possible, taking note only of what was vital to his task.

"According to this, we're on foot for the last two miles," he said, hoping that he was examining the readout correctly.

"Yeah, the Rover can't go there," Hermione responded distractedly. "Check out the terrain."

It was huge and blindingly clear…and barren.

"Are we in a desert?" she asked disbelievingly. The Land Rover powered up a sand dune and Snape felt himself thrown against the seatbelt.

"The presence of copious amounts of sand would seem to indicate that, yes," he replied. Hermione abruptly braked and put the car into park. She silently peeled off her coat, gloves, and scarf before moving on to her sweater as Snape watched.

"Enjoying the show?" she asked, voice a bit defensive to hide her embarrassment at the fact that she was stripping down layer by layer in front of him. Each previous time, she'd had her back turned to him. She had known he might be watching then but it didn't bother her because she couldn't see him. Hermione turned her head boldly to look him in the eye as she tugged off her shirt, leaving her in her bra and a cotton camisole. She was startled to see his black eyes burning. The look in his eyes sped up her heart rate and she was unable to break her gaze. This time he looked away, tugging off his own outer clothes and rolling up the sleeves and unbuttoning the top few buttons of his shirt. When his gaze returned to her it was normal but for a vague flicker in its depths.

Hermione cleared her throat, trying to shake herself out of her trance, and tossed her extraneous garments into the backseat before starting the vehicle once more and proceeding.

"We should hit the limit of our journey in the car within an hour," she said quietly. The sun was not yet at its zenith, but glowed brightly, warming the cockpit of the car. Hermione switched on the air conditioning, turning it to the highest setting. They drove on in silence, without even the music, atmosphere broken only by Snape's occasional instructions for course correction.

As Hermione had predicted, they reached the edge of their ability to traverse within the hour. A dense jungle lay in front of them, looking lush and forbidding. Hermione and Snape looked at each other for a moment before unbuckling their seatbelts. The pulled together their things and got out of the Rover.

"Should've brought machetes," Hermione commented.

"Well now that we've traveled through just about every sort of terrain possible, ranging from snowy forests to thick deserts, jungle is the logical choice, I suppose." Snape fastened his pack securely and began to walk, Hermione next to him. Or perhaps walk wasn't the right word. They found themselves climbing over huge roots and trying not to stumble through the dense foliage. The pair proceeded in silence for about ten minutes before Hermione spoke.

"This should take us about an hour as well," she told him as she struggled through some vines. "If we continue at this rate, that is. Then we'll be at the temple. At which point, we deal with the Gate Keeper."

Snape stopped short and turned to her, his expression surprised and annoyed. "Gate Keeper?"

Hermione looked up at him. "Well you didn't think it'd be _that_ easy, did you?"

"I was hoping," he sighed. "What will this Gate Keeper do?"

Hermione leaned against a tree and pulled out some water and a peanut butter and jelly sandwich. They'd had the foresight to make a couple and pack them for the trip. She took a sip of water before answering. The constant shifting between atmospheres was probably wreaking havoc on her skin, she noted wryly, as she drank. The humid air pressed in around them, pulsing.

"Question us. Thoroughly. You see, it is normal for current holders of the Eternal pendant to make pilgrimages here at any given time. They do it for a variety of reasons, ranging from a need for spiritual comfort to a desire for inspiration to plain curiosity about what the temple looks like. Generally the Gate Keeper will let them pass without comment. We could be stopped for two reasons. Although I have the ability, I don't have the pendant. The Gate Keeper may want to know why. Also, the Gate Keeper may want to ask why I shared my powers."

"What are you going to say?" Snape asked as he sipped at his own water.

Hermione snorted. "That I needed your help to stop a psychopathic blonde with aspirations toward godhood," she responded acidly. "Or goddesshood, in her case." She shrugged. "I'm going to say that we're lovers and hope it works." She looked up at him with a moment of sudden panic. "You're not a virgin, are you?"

Snape did his level best to glare at her. "At nearly forty years of age, I should hope not, Miss Granger. Are you?" he asked slyly, turning the tables.

"No," she replied simply. "One time, bad experience, don't want to discuss it." She frowned as she recalled it. Snape watched the frown settle into her features and was hit by a sudden anger on her behalf. He mentally winced, realizing that the one time had probably been Krum, before he'd lost it and beat the hell out of her.

"I'm sorry to bring up bad memories," he apologized, so softly that she almost didn't hear it.

Hermione looked up at him, startled. It suddenly occurred to her that he might think that Viktor had…

"No don't worry. It wasn't Viktor and it was consensual and everything. It was just…bad. Like he was bad." She furrowed her brow. She was not communicating what she intended. "As in he was not good in bed," she tried to clarify. "Wouldn't know what to do for a woman if an instruction manual hit him in the head," she mumbled. One look at his face made her blush. She hadn't intended for him to hear that.

Snape smirked openly, amused by her flustered reaction. His amusement quickly turned to fear as he registered that something on the tree behind her was moving.

"Hermione," he said in a low voice. "On your shoulder…it isn't a vine," he said urgently.

Hermione stiffened slightly and her eyes widened as she registered what he meant. "It's not poisonous looking, and it's not too large for a boa constrictor, but it's capable of crushing your throat, I should think."

Hermione took a deep breath and moved slightly, holding out her arms and letting the snake twine around them. She hummed soothingly, letting the vibrations calm it (or so she hoped) and allowed it to slide around her waist. She walked over to a tree branch and gently extricated her arm. The snake agreeably slid onto the tree and Hermione went limp with relief. Snape touched her shoulder and she jumped slightly before turning and hugging him tightly.

"I hate snakes," she whispered into him.

"I take offense to that," he teased gently, rubbing her back soothingly. "You handled it extraordinarily well, Hermione. You're fine now." She nodded against his body before taking a deep breath and pulling away. She grabbed her water and bag and rejoined him.

"Okay, let's get out of this damned jungle as quickly as possible. Soon we're going to see big spiders, at which point you're going to have to carry me. I dislike snakes: I'm terrified of large, furry arachnids."

He took her hand reassuringly. "Calm down, Hermione. We'll get out of here as quickly as possible." Hermione nodded, taking a bracing breath, and they proceeded at a faster pace.

An hour and twenty minutes later they had hit the temple complex. It was huge, constructed of marble, limestone, and granite. The architecture was unidentifiable, but beautiful. The pair gazed at it in awe for a moment before climbing the first step into the temple complex.

Hermione yelped as they disappeared.

* * *

Additional Info: Okay, for the record, all the info I gave you on the harp is true—although there is a lot of debate on whether the Egyptian harp was played for purposes of ritual magic. It is more than possible, since it is firmly established that music played a strong role in ritual magic in Mesopotamia. Some of the reliefs in Egyptian tombs suggest that there may have been similar practices in that culture.

Also, Lily Laskine was an actual harpist who taught at the Paris Conservatoire and made many recordings. She was known as a prodigy with a gift for teaching. Similarly, Hasselman, Salzedo, and Tournier were all legends of the harp world. Vasili Barokov, Iliana Postrov and Antonin Leoretti are all characters of my own invention.

The songs are: The Chemicals Between Us by Bush from the album The Science of Things, and I Still Haven't Found What I'm Looking For by U2 from either The Joshua Tree album or their Greatest Hits 1980-1990.


	11. Chapter 10

First, I'd like to apologize…I've been in the middle of a move to Northern California for a research internship and I haven't been able to update. My updates will be more sporadic from here on out, but I will be updating regularly.  
Draccy was my super-quick reviewer last chapter. Woohoo!  
SlytherinsDarkAngel: I adore that you quote your favorite lines. Thanks for the review, as always!  
FionaMcKinnon: Lol, I hadn't even thought of Ron. I just assume that rational people find large, furry, 8-legged creatures rather frightening. However, I do have friends that rather like tarantulas…but I wouldn't necessarily call those friends rational.  
AzalynAngel: Thank you for reviewing! I'm glad you love my story…I'll try to update more frequently.  
Princessfiona: Thank you for the lovely review. I hope you keep leaving me love!  
Chibimecools: You called it! Brownies for you—there is actually some action in this chapter. And not of the ass-kicking kind.  
Reflection in Fire: Thank you for your fabulous review, Karen. I pulled most of the Egyptian references from the fact that I have an Egyptology minor. I brought up the idea of music in ritual magic at one of our weekly drunken Egyptology get-togethers and promptly had two professors and three grad students arguing over the concept.  
ZandraNight: Thank you for your lovely review. I'm really sad that your parents are like that…I actually pulled the basis of Hermione's parents from a couple I know who were totally in love and totally unprepared to include their kids in that experience. It always made me unhappy to watch their little boy…he seemed so lonely. Made me want to kick his parents. Hard. Repeatedly.  
Maeri San: I hadn't noticed the acronym, actually, but that's pretty funny!  
Lil: Glad you're still with us. Any car ride I write will involve singing.  
AveryGoodun: I think your words of praise are fantastic and always look forward to reading reviews from you!

Again, still trying to beat my record for reviews, which stands at 119 on one story, so if you're reading this…leave me love!  
Thanks to all the fabulous people who have reviewed thus far and stuck with me in my long bout of silence. Another chapter will go up within a day or two.

--aimes

* * *

Hermione and Severus were flung unceremoniously onto the ground in a large chamber. Snape climbed to his feet and lifted Hermione up with an arm around her waist.

"Are you alright?" he asked quietly as he looked around. The room was made of smooth white marble and the walls were curved in an undulating pattern, giving the illusion of white waves that made Snape somewhat dizzy. He absorbed all this within a split second before turning his attention back to Hermione.

"Quite honestly I'm really sick of being thrown around," she was responding. "Are you okay?"

"I'm fine."

"Who are you?" a voice boomed.

Hermione cringed against Snape's side and he squeezed her reassuringly. They turned to look at the speaker.

A large man sat on a throne. Well, perhaps man wasn't quite the right word. His skin was ebony black and his eyes were silver. He wore a robe that blended seamlessly with his skin and he watched them with a rather unpleasant expression. Combined with the rather jarring way he set against the blinding white of the room, the effect was intimidating, to say the least.

"I'm Hermione Granger. This is Severus Snape," Hermione offered, wondering whether he could sense fear and hoping he could not.

"What is your purpose here?"

"I am here for the Chord of Dreams." Remembering her purpose made her stronger and she stood straighter, though she made no attempt to move away from Snape.

The silver eyes locked on her and seemed to stare through her.

"I sense within you the Gift. Yet you bring no Amulet of Eternity." He was silent for a moment, eyes closed. "But it is there. None but the strongest could share their gift, and the Music that courses through him is not his own." He opened his eyes to gaze upon them once more. "We shall handle things in order, then. Why did you share your Gift with him?"

"It was mine to share," Hermione replied with quiet determination. "And I chose to share it with him."

"It is truth." The Keeper turned his stare on Snape. "And you? Giving you her Gift was an act of love and faith. It was hers to share so I question her no further. But taking the Gift from her required no special fondness." He smiled. "Human men are notoriously bad at understanding the subtleties of life so I shall ask you directly: do you love her?"

Snape realized in an instant that the Keeper would know if he lied. The only option was whatever truth he had within him, given the short time in which he'd begun to realize his feelings for Hermione.

"I trust her with my life and my soul. If love is trust then I love her. I admire her intellect and her loyalty. If love is admiration and respect, then I love her. I enjoy her presence and could choose no better companion. If love is joy and companionship, then I love her."

He cringed internally, noting that this was not his ideal scenario for telling Hermione that he was interested in her. But then he rather doubted whether he would ever have built the courage or insanity to simply say it, so perhaps these oblique references to 'how he felt'—the phrase alone was enough to give him a bad taste—might make things easier in the long run.

The Keeper seemed to taste Snape's words. "It is truth," he said slowly. He seemed about to speak further, perhaps to point out the evasiveness of Snape's reply, but his brow furrowed suddenly.

"Another has entered this place with an Amulet that is not hers. I suspect it is yours." He looked at Hermione shrewdly. "You are here to stop her."

"Yes," Hermione said boldly. "She seeks the Chord to become a goddess."

"And why do you seek the Chord?"

"I do not. I wish only to ensure that it is safe from her."

The Keeper nodded. "I have protected this temple since the beginning of time," he revealed. "And yet I lack the power to stop her. Who would have imagined that humans would be strong enough to defy me? For your honesty, I give you a map. You can follow it without fear or obstacle to the entrance of the Chamber of the Chord. I cannot open the entrance for you; it is up to you from there. In return for my faith in you, I ask a favor."

Hermione nodded. "Please continue."

"For you to destroy the Chord would destroy the balance of the universe. It must remain safe. And yet the flaw of the present system is obvious. When you defeat her and regain your Amulet, grant me the power to protect this place more securely."

Hermione's brow furrowed. "Won't this place be destroyed if she tries to take the map with an Amulet that's not hers?"

"I can stop that from happening," he replied with a shrug. "The map is something I have control over."

"So why don't you just stop her from accessing it altogether?" Snape asked.

"Because there will be another just like her soon enough. Only this time it shall be someone who was granted the Amulet and did not steal it. To an Eternal Musician, a holder of the Amulet, I cannot deny the map. Even you could probably take it if you were alone and not sharing your Gift with him," he told Hermione. "And were you of the mind, you could obliterate existence with it."

"Yes," Hermione agreed. "I came here intending to destroy the Chord or the temple in order to stop others like Regina. It was rash of me not to consider the necessity of the Chord. Only a handful of us understand the Chord and we are charged with the secret of its power. The Chord does not exist for us, it exists for the rest of the world, who cannot see it in their everyday lives."

The Keeper smiled. "Humanity has come far, child, but only a select few have ever seen beyond their dreams to the magic within the ordinary. And fewer still have understood the power there, the solid reality of existence that is kept within the everyday moments. For the rest, the Chord remains. And when humanity begins to fail, when balance begins to falter, parts of the Chord ring out from this place and reverberate through the universe."

"And it restores balance," Snape finished. "It doesn't need a musician to play it, it plays itself."

Hermione had a random, fleeting thought about what this implied about the possibility of life elsewhere in the universe before deciding that it was a complex metaphysical discussion that she would have with herself if she were ever locked in a nuthouse.

"As I said, Humanity has come far, but it is still arrogant enough to believe in its own necessity." The Keeper grinned. "That's why I like humans." His sharp silver teeth glowed brightly against his black skin and Hermione imperceptibly tightened her grip on Snape. He rubbed her hip gently in response.

The Keeper waved his hand casually. "I'll leave you back at the entrance. I'm not allowed to help you find your way other than to give you the map…sorry."

Hermione and Severus woke on the cold stone floor. Snape was half-atop Hermione and she groaned audibly.

"By the way," they heard the Keeper's voice, "There _is_ one other thing I'm capable of…" Hermione felt an intense energy hit her and suddenly she felt her body relax. The energy subsided and she realized every aching muscle and throbbing bruise felt…fine. She moved experimentally and grunted as she realized Snape was still sprawled on top of her.

"I think I prefer being on top," she managed.

"I would love to indulge you if we manage to make it out of here without any life-threatening surprises." He clambered to his feet and automatically reached out to pull her up as well. "At least we're no longer on the injured list."

"Who makes these bloody rules, anyways? He can give us the map but not help us through the Temple but he can heal us but…whatever, you get what I'm saying." Hermione growled irritably as she pushed her hair back from her face. She looked up and noticed that Snape was avoiding her gaze. She touched his hand and he turned to look at her reluctantly.

"About what you said back there, to the Keeper…" he moved to speak but she put her hand on his lips quickly. "Thank you," she whispered before removing her hand and reaching up to kiss him on the mouth gently. Her mind started screaming at her, half of it cheering her on and the other half sending out danger warnings. She silenced the contentious half by arguing that he had made the colossal leap of speaking first, even if it was a forced confession. What he'd said was enough to tell her that an advance would probably not be rejected, so she kissed him before she could think better of it. And every cell in her body thanked her for doing so.

Snape had every intention of keeping it chaste until he felt her lips against his. With an animalistic growl, he wrapped his arms around her and kissed her hard. Hermione let out a soft noise of surprise that quickly turned into a moan as her lips parted and his tongue thrust into her mouth. Her arms gripped his shoulders before sliding around his neck. Her mental noise went silent and her instincts took over. She sucked on his bottom lip and pressed against him as her libido switched into overdrive. Severus pulled her tightly against him and bent his head, devouring her. Hermione lifted a leg to hook on his hip and whimpered when he pressed against her, grinding into her centre. Severus moved to kiss her neck, licking her ear and sucking on the base of her throat. Through the thin material of her camisole and bra he could feel her nipples harden and his body responded with enthusiasum. Hermione pulled his head back up to hers and sucked on his lower lip for a moment before drawing back and staring into his burning black eyes.

"We have to go before Regina gets too close," she said huskily. "We can finish this later."

Snape's eyes glazed over with shock for a moment as higher cognitive functions kicked in and informed him exactly what he had just done and to whom. He began to recoil, angry with himself and with her, but Hermione held him tightly.

"No you don't," she chided. "Stop being foolish, Severus. We're both adults, remember? And I assure you, it was mutual, so don't go thinking you pushed yourself on me. And I felt the way you just kissed me so don't try to say I forced myself on you. We _will_ finish this later," she growled dangerously. "Or I will torture you to the brink of insanity." She darted her tongue out to lick his lips and smiled at his guttural groan. Hermione reluctantly pulled away from him, praying her legs would support her and both chiding herself and thanking the heavens for having to think that they might not.

Severus pulled back slowly, and Hermione's leg slid down his body. She leaned back against him for a moment before walking over and picking up her bag, slinging it over her shoulder. A moment later she noticed the stone beneath it and bent to examine it.

"I'm going to guess this is the map," she said as she rose, handing it to him. Snape took it from her as he adjusted his own bag and scrutinized it. It was smooth and slightly curved, with a series of intricate lines engraved on it. The lines glowed blue and Snape was struck by how large the temple must actually be. Two dots glowed on the map, one red and one yellow.

"I shall assume that we are the glowing yellow dot at the entrance of the temple and the glowing blue dot is the Chord." He wondered how it was so easy to converse when he was fighting a powerful urge to pull her in his arms and prop her up against the nearest wall.

"A safe assumption," Hermione replied. She moved next to him and traced a finger lightly along the stone. "This would probably be the route we need to take, right?"

"Why do I suspect it's not that easy?" He asked rhetorically.

"Probably because it never is," Hermione responded wryly. "But let's go anyways."

They started off down the corridor, moving carefully but quickly through the maze and paying careful attention to the map. If Hermione stood closer than she needed to in order to consult the map he held and if Severus placed his hand on the small of her back to guide her just a little to frequently, neither of them made comment.

* * *

Two hours later, Hermione growled angrily as they hit another dead end. Severus was struck with a distinct impression of the tigress-like magic within her clawing a tree to shreds.

"This map is bloody useless," she spat. "Dead end after dead end."

"Endlessly," Snape deadpanned. Hermione shot him a glare and he gave her a mirthless smile. "Calm yourself, Hermione. We'll find it."

"Before Regina does?" she shot back. She stopped for a moment to sip at some water and nibble on grapes. Snape silently accepted her offer of food and water and they rested for a moment.

"If we are having this much trouble, Regina is probably not faring much better."

The pair began walking again, heading back the way they had come. They hit the fork in the corridor at which they'd gone left the first time and tried the right-hand passage.

"True," Hermione acquiesced. "Do you really have to be so damned logical though?"

"No," he responded, easily. "However one of us probably should be." Hermione made a halfhearted face at him as they approached a door. What had happened to the short-tempered Severus Snape she'd known and been able to hate? Logical, calm Severus was far more infuriating. Especially when his patience highlighted her own short fuse.

"You know, it'd be really useful if the Gate Keeper saw fit to provide us with updates on Regina's status. Anyways, what's behind door number one?" she mumbled, reaching for the handle. The door was set in stone with a brass ring in the center, which Hermione grasped and pulled. The doorway opened and was consumed with a blue light. Hermione stepped back, brow furrowed. A light musical tone echoed from within the light.

"Sounds a bit like Haydn, doesn't it?" Hermione murmured. Snape glanced down at her. Hermione paid no attention to him as she approached the light. Snape caught her by the shoulder before she touched it.

"Are you sure that's wise?" he asked sharply.

"No," she replied. "But I'm going to do it anyways."

Snape sighed. "Very well." He moved to stand next to her and they stepped into the doorway together.

It was warm and inviting, and in the center of the light was a violin. Hermione frowned.

"I can't play the violin. What are we supposed to do with it?"

Snape wasn't paying attention to her, instead listening closely to the music surrounding them. "Hermione, do you notice something odd about the music? It is a string quartet piece, but there's something missing."

Hermione looked over at him where he stood, head cocked, glowing with ethereal light. She listened more carefully. "Actually," she ventured slowly, "It sounds like the second violinist dropped off in this piece."

Snape nodded in agreement. "So presumably you're to take that violin and play second violinist to the quartet. Something that no master violinist or musician would be familiar with, since I assume they'd always play first position. At the very least, it would have been quite some time since they'd played second violin by the time they got here."

"Humility," Hermione murmured. "Everyone is important to the cohesiveness of the piece, but people seem to think only the first violinist is important. But I still can't play the violin."

Snape's brow furrowed as he stared at the violin for a moment before turning to her. "But perhaps you can," he said thoughtfully.


	12. Chapter 11

Okay, so this is a pretty long chapter with a lot of stuff going on. Many questions will be answered as we approach the end of our little journey. Yep, only a few more chapters to go, I think. I've actually had a few ideas that will make this story a bit longer than originally intended…we'll see how much longer it ends up.  
The female apophis was my super-quick reviewer on the last chapter. Thanks for the review, my dear. I hope you continue enjoying this story.  
LauraNotLora: People really have this silly idea that playing second is not as important as playing first. I think it's super cool that you play the violin. I wanted to learn, but my teacher kindly told me that I'd suck terribly at it and that unlike the harp the violin is not a forgiving instrument to beginners. And that I'd be frustrated all the time because it's been so long since I was a beginner at the harp that I've forgotten what it's like.  
SlytherinsDarkAngel: Thanks for the review! I'm glad you liked that bit…I tried not to make it too horribly sappy but what the hell, eh?  
Mione n Sevvie: Nope, as far as I know Snape has exhibited no musical inclination other than an appreciation for fine music. He may prove me wrong. But believe me when I say it's bloody hard to make things work with another musician. I tried it once.  
Draccy: I'll just take a paint pen to a white tank top and make my own 'krunk' tee, I suppose. After reading your review, I had another idea on how they get it together which will pull this story out a bit. We shall see…  
AveryGoodun: I think you'll see the influence of your last review in here. I actually explained something that I'd thought through in my head but not put down on paper…till you raised the question of how many challenges there would be. Hope you like this chapter!  
Lil: Glad you're loving it. A pleasure to hear from you, as always.

As always, reviews are appreciated! Still trying to beat 119, so keep the love coming. Thank you so very much to all of you who have taken the time to leave me a note!

--aimes

* * *

Hermione reached out and tentatively gripped the violin, glancing at Snape warily. He stopped her before she could grasp the bow. 

"It won't work if you doubt yourself," he chided.

"Then you do it," she hissed back, unnerved.

"I can't take the risk of draining you like that," he responded gently. His brow creased for a moment as he considered. "However I may still be able to help. Take the violin," he instructed.

Hermione did so and lifted it to her chin almost instinctively. Snape stepped behind her and pulled out the necklace she'd given him. He unclasped it from around his neck and gripped it in his left hand, sliding his arm around her and pressing the pendant against her chest, next to the silver one she wore. His right hand covered her pendant and he began to focus himself. Hermione gasped as she felt magic flow through her. It was gentle and encompassing, like water, and it held her buoyant. In a flash she sensed the music as well, alive and existing within her. The water-magic tugged at the music gently, pushing it and shaping it before stopping and forcing her to drift toward the music. Without thought, Hermione began to play the violin, shaping the music as Snape had shown her, bending it to her will. It flowed through her and suddenly she was playing the Haydn piece. In a moment the blue light had dissolved and Hermione and Severus were suddenly on the other side of the doorway. It had closed itself behind them and they stood at the entrance of a large chamber. Snape released his hold on her and Hermione felt the water recede. All at once she had a vision of the water rising in an unstoppable tide, destroying everything it encountered, washing through and dominating, only to recede when it had finished, leaving nothing of itself behind. She let out a soft sigh as the image flashed through her mind before dissipating.

"Just because we can't use it in ways we're accustomed to does not mean our magic has ceased to exist," a voice murmured in her ear. "Is that what we came for?" he asked, gesturing.

Hermione focused on the platform in the middle of the room, trying to ignore the shivers that his voice sent shooting down her spine. The chamber was large and black, with the same undulating pattern on the walls that had been in the Keeper's chambers.

"This seems a bit too…easy," Snape noted uncomfortably. "I should think that there would be more layers between us and the Chord."

His statement stopped Hermione in her tracks and she didn't move forward, trying to calculate whether the Chord itself was rigged.

"Well we have to remember that the vast majority of humanity has no idea that the Chord exists. Not even the magical world is aware of it. Add in the fact that you need an Amulet of Eternity to get in and that the Gate Keeper can make your visit pretty hellish if he thinks you're here with evil intentions. The only reason he let Regina in without question is because he knew that we'd stop her…" she said thoughtfully.

"But you said yourself that the Amulet exists for every instrument. There are a lot of instruments in the world, Hermione. And the Gate Keeper admitted that his powers are severely limited. Anyone with an Amulet and enough willpower could take the map," Snape countered.

"Right, but I don't even think that rumours about the Chord circulate in musical communities where the Amulet is weak. Remember, I told you that the harp and the piccolo are the most powerful? Well supposedly there are only a handful of instruments for which the Amulet can be used to access the Temple. I don't know specifically which instruments, other than the harp and piccolo, but there aren't many, from what I know. Also, the Temple itself is damned confusing. And I get the feeling that the Keeper gave us the _easy_ map. In any case, even if you're right…what choice do we have?"

Snape nodded reluctantly and they proceeded to the middle of the room, where a plain wooden box sat on a block of red granite within a column of light. Hermione took his hand before stepping into the light and reaching toward the box. A split second before she touched it, Snape tensed and turned, an angry and bewildered expression on his face.

"What the bloody he--?" he had no opportunity to finish the statement.

"Crucio!" The spell came out of nowhere and Hermione hit the ground, writhing. Snape had his wand out in seconds, crouching low and relaxing his mind to sense the other presence in the room. It took him a fraction of a second to realize that the spell had to have come from behind them—Regina must have followed them through the maze somehow.

He muttered a spell to make himself invisible and cursed when it didn't work. Suddenly the outline of a woman emerged, leaning against the door with a wand pointed at him.

"Only works for me, love," she said with a smirk. "How'd you know I was here?"

"Whatever spell you were using to mask your scent wore off. I always hated that perfume," he replied coldly.

"Took me years to figure out a way to use magic in this place without the Keeper sensing it," Regina said casually, ignoring his comment. "I would have come for it as soon as I had worked around that detail, but by that time Vasili was dead and there was no holder of the Amulet. Bloody irritating—the Amulet is useless unless it has been held at least once by its current keeper and the keeper is alive. Hence, I had to wait for it to be awarded to someone. I'd hoped it would be me, but…" She flicked her wrist, releasing the spell on Hermione. "Beggars can't be choosers."

Without taking his eyes from Regina, Snape dropped to one knee and checked Hermione's pulse.

"I'm okay," she grunted. "In a very relative sense of the word."

"How sweet," Regina drawled. "Concerned for her well-being, then, Severus? You always were far too nice beneath that dark exterior. I prefer my evil unfiltered." She pushed away from the wall and stood before them, eyebrow raised and smirk well in place. She was tall; at least five-feet, ten inches. Her thick, almost translucent blonde hair fell to her waist and her green eyes were the color of emeralds. Hermione decided that the woman was unquestionably beautiful. In a bitchy sort of way.

"I noticed your penchant for madmen," Snape responded tersely. "Round about the time you started sleeping with Voldemort."

"Don't take it personally," Regina replied sweetly. "It was a pure lust thing. Besides, it's not like I kicked you out of my bed as soon as I started sleeping in his part-time."

"I rather wish you had." He stalled, allowing Hermione to catch her breath and recover somewhat from the curse.

Regina's face darkened. "Is the little Mudblood bitch a good shag?" she asked acidly. "It was a pretty steamy kiss you had back there, after all." Severus and Hermione winced almost simultaneously.

"Funny how much it upsets you that he might be sleeping with me considering _you_ dropped _him_," Hermione pointed out. She was shifting on her side, trying to get to her wand without Regina noticing and blowing her halfway to hell.

Regina turned her deadly glare on Hermione. "Whether or not I'm fucking him at any given time, he's mine," she growled. "And so was the Harpist. So you've already got two points against you. Care to try for more?"

Hermione rolled quickly and came up with her wand pointed at Regina. "Sure. Let's start with me sending you back to hell."

Regina snorted as she pushed off the wall and stalked toward them. "Please. I'm the only one who can do magic here. And I must say, it was very fortuitous that the Gate Keeper dropped you back at the entrance. When I walked in and saw you two on the ground, I realized that all I had to do was put on a few cloaking spells so that the Keeper couldn't sense me and Severus couldn't smell me and follow you two to the prize." She sneered as she directed the jibe at Snape but he merely met her gaze calmly. Anyone who was at all familiar with him, however, could see the rage simmering in his black eyes.

Regina absorbed the hatred emanating from his eyes and gave him a sultry smile. "Much better, love. You're far sexier when you're angry. I always liked fucking you after you'd hexed Lucius Malfoy. It just gave you that extra...spark." Snape moved almost imperceptibly but Regina's wand was leveled at him instantly. "No, darling. I'm afraid consorting with a Mudblood puts you firmly out of my sphere of desire. Stay where you are."

There was no 'or else' but Snape didn't seem to need the added threat. He knew perfectly well what Regina de la Gris was capable of.

Hermione murmured a petrificus spell and was not very surprised when it didn't work. "Worth a try," she mumbled. Severus glanced at her as he slowly rose to his feet, trying not to set Regina off.

Regina strode past them toward the Chord, hips swaying casually. "I'll finish with you just as soon as I've gotten what I came for. It might take some time and meditation before I'm free of emotion and can read it, but I can wait." Hermione was struck by the power that seemed to flow around the woman. She definitely took after her father. Hermione knew who would come out on top in a fight and she was not eager to have her remains splattered against the walls of the temple.

"Incidentally," Regina turned to them with a slight smile, "the platform isn't booby-trapped and neither is the Chord. It's useless to a non-musician, remember? And only someone holding an active Amulet of Eternity can leave the Temple with that box without being disintegrated the second they stepped outside. The violin thing wasn't even a challenge so much as a reminder of your humble roots."

"Well the disintegration bit might've turned out to be a problem," Hermione mumbled, noticing her Amulet glinting against Regina's skin.

"I'd planned to follow you out and take the box after you were a pile of dust, but like I said, beggars, etcetera." Regina returned her attention to the task at hand.

The solution hit Hermione in a flash. As Regina stepped up onto the platform and reached out for the Chord, Hermione moved next to Snape and slid her hand into his shirt to cover the gold pendant.

"You may have my Amulet, Gina, but I have the Gift."

As Regina looked over her shoulder with a confused and irritated expression, Hermione raised her free hand and channeled the music. It surged out of Snape, joining the rest of the music within Hermione for a brief moment before being released as pure energy, crackling as it coalesced into a vaguely winged shape.

Hermione tried vainly to control it, to focus it, but it began to overpower her and she doubled over.

"Pathetic," Regina spat. "Impressive looking but worthless." She turned back to the object of her obsession, reaching out a hand to trace a finger lovingly along the edge of the box. Snape could both sense her magic growing just from touching the box.

Hermione slumped against Snape, desperately trying to exert her control but it was no use. She had the raw power, but not the training. Water washed over her psyche, soothing her, lifting her and rocking her. It swept through her and followed the music, swelling into the tide Hermione had envisioned earlier. The music surrendered to the new force and Hermione watched detachedly as it hit Regina, lifting her up and tossing her across the room. She felt the spell that allowed Regina to use magic dissolve into dust and registered the shocked look in Regina's eyes as she hit the wall and slid down. None of it really concerned her, though. She was so comfortable floating on the inky water in the gentle darkness. Soothing darkness. She wanted to wrap herself in it.

All at once, the water was gone and the music returned to her, fire in her veins as it reintegrated itself into her. Then that too was gone and she felt empty but for the familiar sensation of the music running in her head.

Next to her, Severus Snape stood tall and calm, supporting her. His eyes flickered open as his magic eased back into him.

"Hermione? Are you okay?" he asked quietly.

"Yeah," she responded, voice rough. "Thanks. I…well, thanks." She looked up at him, brown eyes tired but with a slight smile.

Snape nodded silently as he helped her straighten. Hermione looked over at Regina where she slumped against the wall.

"Think she's down for the count, then?"

"I suppose we should check," he sighed. They moved cautiously toward the blonde figure. When they were within a few feet. Hermione stopped. Snape stopped as well and looked at her.

"Something's not right," she began, but was silenced when Regina sprang to her feet. Hermione saw the knife a split second before Regina slid it between Snape's ribs.

"No!" Hermione shoved Regina back, slamming her against the wall. Regina struggled and without warning the music lashed up and out of Hermione, enveloping the blonde woman. A thousand tiny cuts appeared on Regina as she started screaming in pain.

Hermione gasped as Regina's own protective magic swelled and emerged from her, a dark green force of nature the color of Regina's eyes. It grew exponentially, filling the room and protecting itself and its mistress. The temperature dropped several degrees as Regina's magic gathered itself, prepared to destroy anything and everything.

Hermione forced her own magic to control the music as she'd felt Snape do and she suddenly felt the two fuse. The music became part of her magic in an instant and she felt power surge through her. A burst of energy spiked out and the winged shape appeared, striking directly for Regina's heart. With a piercing scream, Regina slumped to the floor, dead. The green magic expanded and then collapsed, imploding and dissipating around the lifeless body of its mistress.

Hermione was distracted by Snape's unmoving form and noticed Regina's demise only as a peripheral event. She felt her magic return and made a mental note to have Snape explain the concept of magic as a raw force instead of something she had to conjure up with a wand. If he survived.

She dropped to her knees beside him and rolled him onto his back, grunting as she lifted his limp upper body into her arms. He groaned and his eyes opened but remained unfocused. They were dull and fading and Hermione began to panic.

"Severus? Severus, stay with me, please. Come on; don't give up on me now! We're going to get out of here and get you some help." She pressed her hand against his torso to staunch the blood flow and almost missed his low murmur.

"What are you trying to say, Severus?" she leaned her head close to his.

"Keeper," he whispered.

Hermione's brow furrowed before it registered. "Oh bloody hell I'm an idiot," she cursed. "Keeper? Gatekeeper! I know you can hear me! Help me, please!" She felt Snape's pulse slow and she turned panicked eyes back to him. "Keeper!" she screamed. "Damn you, help us!"

She felt the yank as she disappeared and nearly cried with relief.

"Demanding little one aren't you?" came the rich voice. Hermione looked up at the Keeper with a glare.

"We stopped her," she growled. "Would you please help him?"

"Well since you asked so nicely," he laughed. He closed his silver eyes. Hermione's hand slid from Snape's wound to his hand and she clutched it tightly, eyes closed as she tried not to panic.

"C'mon," she mumbled. "Dumbledore'll kill me if you die."

"Glad to know you care," Snape replied wryly. Hermione looked up from where she clutched his hand. His eyes were open and he was regarding her with a bemused expression. Snape sat up and Hermione flung her arms around him, hugging him tightly.

"I need to breathe, Hermione," he gasped. Hermione released him with a sheepish smile. His mouth quirked into a small smile as well and it was enough to make Hermione grin.

The Gatekeeper cleared his throat.

"Are you quite finished?" he teased. Hermione glanced over at him, still smiling.

"We'll we've stopped Gina," she told him. "Now what?"

She and Snape stood, facing the keeper.

"Now I ask you to grant me the ability to prevent such a situation in the future," the Keeper told her. "But first," he held up a pendant, "I believe this is yours." He tossed it to her and Hermione caught it with a slight smile.

"Thanks. Now how exactly do I go about giving you power?"

The Keeper narrowed his eyes at her. "You really are new at this, aren't you?" he asked rhetorically. Hermione raised an eyebrow at him and Snape chuckled at the expression on her face.

"Can we get on with it?" she asked irritably.

"All you need do is focus, child, until you feel the energy inside you. Then you use it to make me stronger," he said simply.

Hermione looked confused, pondering how exactly one was to do this.

"I think it's like sharing the music with me," Snape said suddenly, as the process clicked in his mind. "His natural ability will amplify it."

"And unlike us, he can reign it in," Hermione finished. "Makes sense, I think. But wouldn't one of the residual effects be an increase in my own power? I mean if it's amplifying but I don't have to expend the energy to control it, theoretically it should leave me stronger too."

"No. Humans are not like me. You have an innate ability level. Magical humans can train themselves just as athletic humans can, however you cannot change your raw talent level. It simply…is. Once we break our connection, the power will recede back to its natural level in you." The Keeper shrugged. "I was created as a being in flux. Over the millennia I have changed and adapted, but I seem to have hit a plateau several millennia ago in terms of magical ability. Other aspects of me seem to keep evolving but that particular trait hit a wall. It was only two centuries ago that I learned that magical holders of the Amulet can advance my powers, and even then, it takes a very gifted witch or wizard."

"Am I gifted enough?" Hermione asked bluntly.

"I believe you are. If you are not, there is little harm done. You will faint and I shall revive you."

Hermione took a deep breath and exhaled. "Alright then. Let's try this." She took the Keeper's hand and the Amulet of Eternity, letting it rest between their clasped hands. She closed her eyes but before she could begin the spell, Snape touched her shoulder.

"It may be more successful if I help," he suggested quietly. Hermione looked over at him and nodded her agreement.

Snape took the gold pendant from around her neck and held it as he grasped her free hand. He let his magic seep into her slowly. At the same time, Hermione channeled her new hybrid magic, letting it mingle with Snape's. She began to chant the spell and the energy flowed into the Keeper.

Within seconds the room seemed to crackle with energy. The combined powers fed back into each other, growing almost impossibly large. The Keeper opened his eyes and began to absorb the excess energy until he could take in no more. With a grunt he broke the connection and Hermione felt her magic rush back into her. Snape waited for her to gain her bearings before pulling his own magic back into him.

Hermione released the Keeper's hand and looked at him, unsure. She could feel the power radiating from him and instinctively stepped back. Snape squeezed her hand reassuringly and the pendant dug into her palm, making her squeak. In a moment the newly powerful Keeper had turned his gaze upon them.

"Impressive," he complimented with a grin. Hermione found herself no more comfortable with his teeth than she had been before.

"Erm, thanks."

The Keeper laughed and this time it was Hermione who squeezed Snape's hand.

"Would you like to see the Chord, child? You've come all this way, after all."

"No, I think it's better left where it is. And you might want to consider increasing the security on it," Hermione added as an afterthought.

The Keeper grinned again and the sight of his sharp silver teeth was enough to convince Hermione that the Chord was protected well enough.

"I will return you to your vehicle. You can find your way from there, I trust. The temple has already absorbed the remains and energy of the other one."

"Remind me not to die here," Hermione muttered to Snape.

"Perhaps I shall see you again," the Keeper said.

"I'll be sure to write," Hermione assured him. He laughed.

"She's probably a handful in bed," he commented to Snape. Before Hermione could formulate an indignant response, he waved his hand and Snape and Hermione found themselves in front of their Jeep.

"Well that was interesting," Hermione said after a moment.

"Indeed," was Snape's only comment.


	13. Chapter 12

Right, so this story obviously does not follow Book 6 since I haven't picked it up yet. And even after I do pick it up, I probably won't rewrite the entire story. Sorry. Suspend reality for the rest of the story. Thanks!  
Lil was my super-quick reviewer for the last chapter. Thanks, love. Can't wait to see you this week!  
SlytherinsDarkAngel: Sorry I took so long with this chapter. I'm trying to work faster but I'm re-doing the end of this story…I hope you like it!  
Mione n Sevvie: I like the Keeper too. I think he enjoys his job entirely too much!  
Avery Goodun: I can see how the teeth would be a problem. I can just see him with a big, sharp, cheesy grin though!  
Just me: We discuss the body a bit now and a bit more later! Thanks for the review!  
FirePhoenix666: I'm really glad you're liking this! Thank you for reviewing!  
Draccy: Yeah, I liked that line too. Always lovely to hear from you!  
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Fiona McKinnon: Your unwavering encouragement really motivates me. Thanks!

--aimes

* * *

They got into the Jeep, both still a bit dazed by all that had happened. Hermione started the car. It turned over quickly and let out a comforting growl. She shifted into gear and hit the gas. They drove in silence for a while before Hermione spoke. 

"What're you going to tell Headmaster Dumbledore?"

"About what?" he asked, looking over at her with an odd expression.

"Um, his daughter?" she retorted facetiously. "I mean, that will probably be the first thing on his mind, right?"

"That she died trying to get the Chord," he responded after a moment, voice low and tired. "Albus gave her up for dead long ago."

"So you're going to leave out the part where I killed her?" Hermione kept her eyes studiously on the road.

Snape turned to watch her, wondering where this was leading. "I didn't see you kill her, I was rather busy bleeding to death."

Hermione snorted. "Right, because there were so many other people in there trying for a piece of her."

"Hermione, it was not your fault. It was unavoidable."

She sighed and ran a hand through her hair. "I know, I know. But maybe…I don't know. I'd like to tell him if it's alright with you."

"That's your decision," he told her quietly after a moment of thought.

Hermione took a deep breath and looked over at him. "Thanks." He nodded once, silently.

"Occasionally we all must take responsibility for things that may not have been in our control to change," he said after a moment. "Guilt is a powerful emotion."

"You're underrated as a Wise Man, you know that?" Hermione changed c.d.'s trying not to let her hands shake. She'd killed before and she suspected that one day she might be called upon to kill again, but it shook her to her very core each time.

Snape chuckled. "Only a fool would come to me expecting wisdom. I practice realism."

There was a moment of silence as the c.d. player caught the first track. "You'd be surprised how often realism and wisdom are the same," Hermione said finally, as the music started.

A series of voices began speak, rising into a gentle, soothing tide of music. The Latin flowed, simultaneously sad and hopeful. Hermione visibly relaxed as the choir's angelic sounds filled the small space.

"I wondered if you listened to any of the beautiful classical pieces that you create."

Hermione snorted. "Please; I couldn't create this. It's unbelievable, isn't it? I always listen to this to put things in perspective…it relaxes me. It's from Tomas Luis de Victoria's Requiem. Anyways, we should be back at Vasili's place in a few hours…then I'll call Vanya. We'll have to refill the petrol tank before that, but Vanya left us a lot of spare gas." She gave him a sideways glance. "We might have to spend the night at Vasili's depending on how long Vanya takes to get to us."

Snape did not reply, suddenly engrossed by the desert landscape ahead.

"We have to talk about this eventually, you know."

"Eventually implies that I can avoid it for at least a little while longer," he replied.

"Coward," she teased.

He gave her a cold, withering stare. "Really?"

Hermione cringed. "Just kidding."

He did not respond and Hermione knew he did not want to discuss it any further. They both lost themselves in their own thoughts for a while, watching the desert landscape pass. As they hit the edge of the desert Hermione began to feel the Jeep slow. She glanced down at the fuel indicator and groaned.

"Looks like it's time to refuel," she said wryly, shifting into park and unbuckling her seat belt. Snape followed her without comment, eyes dark and unreadable. Hermione made quick work of the empty tank, filling it with the full can Vanya had provided. When she looked up at Snape, he was gazing at the horizon. She followed his line of sight and saw the shimmering wall.

"That must be where the magic zone stops," she said softly. Snape nodded in response. "Ready?" He nodded again. She looked at him for a long moment before shrugging and returning to the driver's seat.

Hermione coasted out of the magical zone, waiting for the magic to sweep over them once more and feeling slightly disjointed when it did not. Brow furrowed, she continued to drive with a mental shrug. She was beginning to toy with the idea that leaving might really just be that easy when the military vehicle pulled in front of them.

"Bugger," she muttered under her breath.

Snape didn't even glance at her as he reached inside the glove compartment and pulled out a roll of American dollars. He shoved them in his coat pocket and handed her a baseball cap and a diamond wedding band. "Put these on and look like you're just on vacation and driving," he ordered softly, before getting out of the car. Hermione obeyed without protest but pulled out her wand and set in her lap. Just in case.

Snape approached the convoy and asked what was going on in Russian. One of the men came forward.

"This is a desolate area. What are you doing here?"

"We went for a drive and got lost," Snape responded amiably. "We've only just sorted out where we are."

The soldier grunted. "You are foreign."

"Yes. My wife was born here, in Russia. We came back to visit." The soldier glanced over Snape's shoulder at the Jeep. He saw thepale-skinned woman's wedding ring glinting through the windshield and nodded.

"You will need an escort," he said gruffly. "We will take you where you are going."

Snape raised an eyebrow. "I would hate to waste your time. It is cold and unfriendly here. Take your men for a drink." His hand slid out of his pocket and the dollars peeked out. The soldier eyed them thoughtfully.

"It is very expensive to buy drinks for so many," he pointed out.

"Yes. But you deserve a reward for being uncomplaining in these conditions." He jostled his pocket as he turned and two hundred-dollar bills fell out. "Dosvedanya," Snape tossed over his shoulder as he walked back to the Jeep.

The soldier did not answer, but Snape heard him get back in the military vehicle. He climbed into the Jeep and watched the military convoy drive away.

"Well that wasn't too bad," Hermione commented quietly. She pulled off the ring and held it out for him to take.

"No, it wasn't" Snape replied simply. He made no move to take the ring and Hermione decided not to make an issue of it, sliding it onto the ring finger of her right hand.

Within a few more hours they were back at Vasili's house and Hermione was on the phone to Vanya.

"Yeah. Tomorrow morning. That's fine, Vanya. We'll discuss the harp later…no, no. I just need some time to decide where I'm going to keep it. Thank you, Vanya. Mmhmm. Goodnight."

She clicked her cell phone off and turned to Snape. He looked up from the Eternal Amulet and raised an eyebrow.

"Looks like we're stuck here for at least tonight," she told him. "Vanya can't get here till tomorrow."

"I see."

"Don't be too cheerful about it," she said sarcastically. He shrugged silently and watched her as she sat opposite him on the couch. He handed her the Amulet and she tucked it into her bag.

"I'm not going to attack you, Severus," she said irritably.

"Miss Granger, obviously nothing can happen between us. I will admit that I find you attractive. Who wouldn't? You are…well, I find you attractive for a great number of reasons and let us leave it at that. However as of tomorrow we return to our respective roles in life: teacher and student."

"Yes, but which are you?" she responded wryly as she drew her feet up and tucked them beneath her. "I'm not an idiot, Severus. I know our respective responsibilities. But I think you're full of shit."

"Pardon?" he blanched. A patented Snape Death Glare gripped his features.

"We both know that I'm not your average student. Don't feed me any bullshit about age differences because we both know that given the longevity of the average witch or wizard, we're both pretty young. Besides, I'm graduating in a few months, at which point the student-teacher role is gone. So you must be avoiding this for some other reason. Care to share it?"

"The fact that it's a bad idea isn't reason enough?" He watched her carefully.

"It would be if you had said anything to make me think this was a bad idea." Hermione met his gaze evenly. "But all I've heard so far is some pathetic twittering about teachers and students. I think we're both capable of being discreet for a few months. Besides, do you really think anyone's going to string us up for being together after all we've been through? I don't."

"Just trust me when I say you do not want this," he growled, frustrated. He rose and stalked toward one of the windows.

"You obviously have no idea what I want," she countered with a sharp edge to her voice. "If you did, we wouldn't be having this conversation."

He didn't reply and Hermione let out a low noise of irritation. "Look, I'm not in it for sex but I'm not asking you to marry me either. Just give it a bloody chance, okay? I don't understand the problem here: I like you, you like me, I respect you, you usually respect me…Either come up with a good argument or resign yourself to the fact that I'm not going to let this go." She tried to keep it lighthearted but her casual tone fell flat.

"And what if I am in it just for the sex?" he asked without thinking. "What if I just want to fuck you and I'm trying to save you some embarrassment by restraining myself?" Severus mentally started kicking himself before he even finished the sentence. That was _not_ what he had wanted to say. He wondered why he always had to make things so damned difficult instead of saying what was really on his mind. He decided he had just crossed the line between self-preservation and total self-sabotage.

A tap on his shoulder shook him out of his reverie and he turned, face blank. He was not prepared for Hermione's hand heading for her face but he caught her wrist instinctively. He sensed her move again and grabbed her other wrist, twisting her around and forcing her to her knees with her arms crossed on her chest. He held her tightly from behind as she struggled, not allowing her to move. He was pressed fully against her back with his knees on either side of her legs and he was leaning his weight against her to keep her subdued. His mind raced, searching for the right words to express himself.

"Miss Granger," he began softly.

Hermione continued to struggle, cursing. If he weren't locking her legs she could throw him off balance enough to free her arms. Her wrists were beginning to hurt from her movements. She relaxed for a moment, sagging limply.

"Hermione," he tried, quietly. Hermione took that moment to shift her entire body, sliding out from beneath him and using his grip on her arms as leverage as she planted a foot firmly in his chest and pushed. Severus released her wrists, not wanting to hurt her. He let the momentum of the kick push him backwards so he could roll to his feet. He held his hands out placatingly, ready for Hermione to attack. When he looked up, he was taken aback to see the emotions playing across her face before she looked away. The fear and humiliation that flashed across her visage pierced him.

"Hermione, please," he said desperately. "I truly didn't mean what I said…I just…" he was moving toward her slowly even as he faltered. Hermione refused to look at him, staring at the ground as she massaged her wrists. He reached her and touched her face gently, cradling her cheek as he forced her gaze upwards. His other hand gripped her shoulder gently. Tears streamed silently down her face and she was trembling.

"I'm sorry," he apologized quietly, straightening up and gazing down at her seriously. "This is not easy for me, Hermione. I spoke without thinking." She tried to look away again and his grip tightened. "I spoke out of fear. I need to be sure that you know what you're jumping into. I'm not an easy man to get along with, Hermione, not by anyone's standards."

"No kidding." Her voice was harsh and he had to battle the urge to pull her into his arms. He was unprepared when she spoke again.

"Trust me when I tell you that I, of all people, know what you're like," she said, her voice upset and shaky. "You get edgy when you're nervous and have a tendency to make hurtful comments without thinking. You're difficult to communicate with and close off almost reflexively. And that's just for starters." A pained look crossed his face and he looked away from her. She caught his face in her hands and gripped it tightly. "You're also kind, gentle, funny, brilliant, and absolutely sexy. I know what you're like. Why can't you trust that I am attracted to you for all that you are?" Her hands dropped to her sides and she made to move away. Severus gave into the urge and pulled her into his arms, holding her tightly, as though almost afraid to let her go.

After a moment, Hermione pulled away and pulled him down to kiss him gently on the lips. He returned the kiss, letting the electricity spark through his body and reveling in the feeling of her soft skin and warmth.

"I'm not in it for the sex," he said firmly after breaking away. "I want you to know that."

"If I thought you were in it for the sex, I wouldn't be here," she replied with a shakysmile. "Besides, you're not getting any for quite some time at the rate you're going." Her eyes glowed slightly with mirth as she said it.

"There are still issues to be dealt with," he warned. "It will not be easy."

"It never is. For the next few months we'll just keep it as quiet as humanly possible. You were a spy, I think you can manage."

"And you?" he teased, relieved that she wasn't angry.

"I'm female. Being circumspect is encoded in my DNA. It'll be made easier by the fact that I'm Head Girl and have my own rooms. The internal floo network worked for us when we were brewing that shielding potion for you…it'll work for us now." She twisted in his arms and began leading him out of the room. For her part, she knew that he was difficult and it didn't bother her. A small petty part of her said that she should have forced him to suffer a bit more but she ignored it.

"Where are we going?"

"To bed."

"Hermione…we should not rush into anything. It has been a stressful day. We should not do anything hasty," he was hesitant but did not stop walking.

"I don't plan to," she assured him. "We really are just going to bed. I'm rather exhausted."

He did not respond and she took that as silent consent. They moved to the upstairs bedroom, where Hermione began a fire and set a warming charm. She went to the closet and changed quickly into the green pajama top she'd worn the night before. Severus followed her and changed into his own pajamas. They remainedsilent as they took their turns in the bathroom.

When Severus emerged, Hermione was already in bed. He crawled in beside her and turned to look at her as she shifted onto her side and snuggled against him.

"I didn't say anything about snuggling," he said dryly.

"Stop being a prat," she responded sleepily. One hand slid beneath his shirt and rested on his waist as she settled her head on his shoulder. He wrapped an arm comfortably around her body, letting his hand slip under her nightshirt and panties to rest on the bare flesh of her hip.

"Goodnight, Severus."

"Goodnight, sweet."


	14. Chapter 13

Okay, this chapter's a bit shorter than my others. I have now read book 6 and while I could probably go back and fix this story to mesh with it, I'm not going to do it. Terminal laziness. Thus I ask that you suspend the reality of Harry Potter fiction and succumb to my world for this story.  
Lil was my super-quick reviewer again but not so with this chapter since she's visiting me!  
Soulsearching06: I'm glad you're enjoying this! Thanks for reviewing!  
Fiona McKinnon: You're awesome for reviewing!  
SlytherinsDarkAngel: I'm very happy that you're sticking with my story despite having read HBP…It would take a hell of a lot of work and backstory to make it work if you didn't just pretend book 6 hasn't happened so I thank you for saving me the work.  
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Tammy: Here's a spot of light for your dark summer. I'll try to work a bit faster. And I have no clue what 'inspirational' phrases I included last chapter. The only inspirational words I have for the world is that wine is always a good thing. Drink it. Your heart and social life will thank you.  
Evil Crazy Willow: We're not finished yet! We're going to hit the mature rating on this fic before it's over.  
Siaynoq'sBride: Thank you for the lovely review and I truly appreciate your going through and reviewing every chapter!

On with the show, eh?

--aimes

* * *

Hermione awoke with a shiver. The fire had gone out and the warming charm had dulled, she assumed, and she automatically snuggled closer to Severus, yawning widely. She fumbled for her wand and heard a grunt.

"That is _not_ your wand, Hermione," he growled, turning onto his side and enfolding her securely in his arms. He released his grip for a moment to reach over and grab his own wand and restart the fire. For a moment he pondered casting a warming spell, but Hermione pulled his arm back toward her body.

"Come on, then. Does it really take this long to start a fire?" Hermione kissed the bare skin exposed by the gap in his pajama shirt and he sensed hesitation.

He settled her in his arms and kissed her gently on the forehead. "Are you having second thoughts, Hermione?" he asked. It came out harsher than he'd wanted but he was scared that perhaps she might say yes.

"No," she replied softly, not seeming to notice his tone. "Are you? I was a bit concerned that you might change your mind after a good night's sleep."

"No," he assured her. "I am not particularly good at expressing myself, as I have proven on countless occasions, but I respect you, Hermione. I would not have you in my arms if were at all unsure of my intentions." He pulled back slightly and she looked up at him. "I care about you, Hermione," he told her in a low, velvet voice. "And while I cannot yet call it love, I care for you more deeply than I have ever cared for anyone."

Hermione smiled at him, eyes glowing. "Likewise," she responded, kissing him soundly.

The kiss was slow and lazy as they began to acquire the taste of one another. Severus caressed her soft skin with something akin to wonder as he sucked on her bottom lip. He was sure that she'd change her mind and push him away at any moment but instead she whimpered and pressed more tightly against him, her hands tangled in his hair. After several moments they broke the kiss and Hermione pressed against him once more, head tucked under his chin, body against his. She dozed once more, enjoying the feathery light strokes of his hands on her body.

"So you propose we use floo once we return to Hogwarts? Do you really think we can keep this from Albus?"

"He's wise but not omniscient, Severus," Hermione teased.

"I wonder about that," he grumbled. "What about…when you graduate?" he asked tentatively.

"Thinking long term then, aren't we?"

"It was a hypothetical question," he replied defensively. Hermione smiled against him and kissed his chest once more.

"When I graduate we'll find a way to make it work. I'll live at the castle and apparate to work from the edge of the grounds every day or something."

"Living with me, hm? Now who's thinking long term?" he teased gently.

"Me," she responded simply. "Somehow I don't think this is going to be a fling."

"Good," he said softly, possessively. He yawned. "When is your friend arriving?"

"Nine, I think. What time is it?" She buried her face against him, shivering slightly. He rubbed her back for a moment to warm her before shifting to grab his wand once more, casting a warming spell on the room. Hermione sighed as the cold began to recede.

"It is seven o'clock," Severus informed her as he glanced at her watch on the side table. He re-tucked the covers around her and tangled his fingers in her hair, tugging gently at her curls. "Get some sleep," he encouraged, his low baritone vibrating through her.

Hermione yawned.

"You know, that's not how most men would respond to this situation," she teased, sliding an arm around him and letting her eyes drift shut.

"I would never want you to think me predictable," he responded lightly. "Besides," he said softly as she drifted to sleep, "I have all the time in the world with you now."

"Mmmm," Hermione agreed faintly. Severus pulled her body tightly against him, caught for a moment in a wave of unfamiliar and almost uncomfortable emotion, a desperate need to protect her and make her happy and keep her close forever. Hermione sighed in her sleep and nuzzled him and Severus felt something tug on his heart.

"Merlin, I'm in deep," he sighed, closing his eyes.

* * *

When Hermione woke again, she smiled. She shifted slightly and nibbled at Severus' bottom lip. He sighed and began to wake and Hermione kissed him full on the lips, sucking on his tongue and feeling his body begin to respond. Suddenly she wanted nothing more than to feel his naked body against hers and feel him inside her. She wanted to fuck him so badly her body almost ached with it. Hermione straddled him, massaging his shoulders as she kissed him and only vaguely registering the loud knocking intruding on her moment. The knocking became more insistent and her cell phone began to ring. Severus groaned as Hermione pulled away, sighing, vowing to herself that she'd be in his arms again soon.

"That'd be Vanya," she said wryly. She grabbed her phone and answered it.

"I'll be right down to let you in, Vanya," she said. Hermione climbed off Severus and hunted for some clothes.

"Take your time getting dressed. I'll handle Vanya," she told him as she headed downstairs, buttoning her shirt.

Severus watched her leave before rising and heading for the bathroom. He switched on the shower and stepped into the steamy water with a sigh.

He wondered how he would deal with this new development in his otherwise simple life. Not an unpleasant development, by any means. Reluctant as he was to admit it to himself, he knew he was in love with her. He was a bit nervous about how others might react to their involvement. Of course, he reflected, Hermione was more than capable of handling herself and he suspected that she would give any opponents a very large and vocal piece of her mind.

The thought made him smile as he turned off the water and stepped out of the shower. It took him only a few moments to dry off and get dressed, and he proceeded downstairs pulling on a sweater.

He hesitated on the stairwell and watched Hermione hug a man he presumed was Vanya and shut the door. Hermione turned away from the door with a smile and looked up at him curiously.

"I'm leaving the harp here, I think, until I can figure out where I want to keep it. I'd love to have it at Hogwarts, but that'd be way too difficult, logistically speaking." She yawned and stretched as she started up the stairs. "I need a shower." She stepped onto the stair above him and leaned down to kiss him. "You smell pretty good, though."

"Indeed," he replied silkily, letting an arm slide around her and pull her closer.

"Mmph, I'm going to lose my balance," Hermione protested, steadying herself by putting her hands on his shoulders. They remained locked in the kiss for several moments before breaking their embrace.

"I'll be down in a bit, after I've showered," Hermione told him before turning and heading back upstairs. Severus watched her go, unashamedly enjoying the view of her bum before finishing his descent down the stairs and angling toward the kitchen.

Hermione stripped off her clothing quickly and hopped into the shower. She allowed the smug grin to spread across her face as the hot water streamed down her body. Severus Snape. Not exactly the prince charming she'd envisioned when she was a child, but prince charming was overrated. She closed her eyes as she rinsed shampoo from her hair.

If someone had told her when she was a first or second year that she'd end up with Snape, she'd have probably recommended committing them to the loony bin. She supposed it was a testament to the fact that you never really knew what was ahead.

She rinsed the conditioner out of her hair and soaped her body. She rather doubted anyone would really object to their involvement. Harry was not fond of Snape on a personal level but respected him after all that had happened and, oddly, had commented to Hermione several times that Snape was probably the only person in Hogwarts as smart as she. Ron, she knew, was beginning to grow up and it had started when he'd faced the fact that Snape had saved his life. Twice. Ron would probably understand better than anyone, in fact, because he realized that life was unpredictable and that as long as someone was good at the core, some things had to be overlooked.

The only people who would put up a fight were Molly Weasley, who would take this as a personal insult, and her own parents. Hermione suspected that Molly would be appeased when she found out that Ron and Luna were seriously involved, and Hermione knew that Ginny would speak up in her defense. As for her parents…well, there was no need to tell them until it was absolutely necessary. And it would only be absolutely necessary when Hermione was pregnant. With her third child. Considering her personal opinion on children, this would not happen in her lifetime.

Hermione finished her shower quickly and got dressed. There was no point in lingering: they were probably already missed from Hogwarts, though Dumbledore had surely covered for them. Still, there were explanations to be thought up and released to the rumour mill.

When she got downstairs she saw that Snape had packed his belongings and set them by the door. She dropped her bag by his and went to find him. He was sitting on the couch in the living room facing the roaring fire. He heard her footfall and looked up as she walked toward her.

"Have breakfast, Hermione," he said, gesturing at the toast, fruit, scrambled eggs, and bacon sitting on a plate on the coffee table. She sat down and took a sip from the cup of coffee resting near the plate.

"Thank you."

They regarded one another for several silent moments as she ate. It was he who broke the silence.

"I am not a nice man."

"I know. It doesn't trouble me." Silence again.

"I can be impulsive and obnoxious and very Gryffindor."

"Yes. I rather like that about you."

Hermione finished the last of her coffee and set it on the table. "You like that I'm insufferably full of myself and a bossy know-it-all who never looks before she leaps?"

"You're not insufferable in any way. You were a know-it-all once, but you're not a child anymore, my love. You were too young to know how to deal with your own intellect. Obviously that is no longer the case." He watched her unsure expression. "And if you looked before you leapt… I would not have you. You would have realized after contemplation that a relationship with me is unadvisable. So I must admit that your impulsiveness and confidence have worked in my favor." He cleared her dishes and offered her his hand. Hermione took it and stood, still mulling over what he'd said.

"We should return to Hogwarts and face the music, shouldn't we?" she asked with a sigh.

"Interesting choice of words," he observed. "But yes, we have been gone too long. We should return."

Hermione nodded and grabbed her bag. Snape picked up his own bag and took her hand. "I shall apparate us to the edge of Hogwarts grounds. From there we should proceed directly to Dumbledore's office."

"Sounds good." Hermione took a deep breath and gripped his hand. She closed her eyes and heard a pop as they disappeared.


	15. Chapter 14

Another long A/N for a long, long chapter. As usual, please suspend the realities of book six and submerge yourself in my world for a while. I own nothing except the Wagner biography I'm reading.  
Soulsearching06 was my super-quick reviewer I'm glad you're having fun...there's lots more where that came from!Danielle: The Update Fairy hearts you quite a lot and sends you an extra-long chapter with her love.Fiona McKinnon: And you're still awesome for calling me awesome! Thank you!  
Lil: You're gone now, but here's a chapter to keep you company.  
Tammy: The teasing is over. And red wine is definitely good for you. Especially with good chocolate. You rock, btw.  
FireKidd: The fun continues.  
Dracosladylove: Trust me, their encounter with Dumbledore is not the most interesting part of this chapter!  
Bookxlover: Thanks for the review.  
AveryGoodun: Yeah but now it's like super-AU. Oh well. Glad you like it despite that and thanks for your sweet compliment about my character-writing.  
Mione n Sevvie: Yup, they're really in deep now...  
SlytherinsDarkAngel: I keep meaning to email you to answer your question about my favorite books...I'll try to remember this time. Thanks for the review!  
Porcelain87: That was one of the most flattering reviews I've ever recieved. Thank you! I'm glad I'm not just amusing to myself.  
Chibimecools: I see a lot of potential for some fun with the seventh book but yeah, the end of the sixth was a bit of a growly moment for me. Especially as we've got to wait so long to see where this goes. I'm glad you're still reading my fic...I read your profile and I agreed with a lot of what you said about the state of ff in general. And promptly became neurotic that my stories aren't literary masterpieces, no matter what Tammy insists.  
Karen (Reflection in Fire): I haven't forgotten your story. I'm having lots of fun with it! Work's been insane and I had a guest last weekend but I swear I will get it back to you. Don't hate me. Please. makes puppy eyes>

Please read and review! Oh, and this chapter earns the rating...just be warned. Thank you all for reading and thanks to everyone who hits the little review button...you guys are awesome!

--aimes

* * *

They stood outside the gates of Hogwarts looking nervous. Well, Hermione looked nervous and Severus looked impassive.

"Ready?" he asked quietly.

Hermione nodded, knowing that the minute they walked through those gates, he would become the same Severus Snape he'd always been. Or the Severus Snape he'd become after the war, anyways. He had to be—they couldn't risk anyone knowing about them. She wondered when she'd see him but didn't ask. Instead they both stepped onto the grounds of Hogwarts.

Severus sped up, switching into his normal Snape mode and Hermione struggled not to fall behind. They approached the castle quickly and entered. A few students stopped to stare at them but the sight of Hermione with a teacher, even Snape, was not enough to get them talking. No one had noticed his absence over the weekend and most had assumed he was doing something for Dumbledore come Monday. The respite from his intimidating presence in Potions was welcome under any circumstances and the student body had become rather used to his odd absences. In any case, no one was brave enough to ask about it.

They all figured Hermione had simply had the misfortune to be the first person he came across when he returned to the castle. He had changed quite a lot, but any student who knew him before the end of the war was always prepared for him to lash out at any moment. It was generally agreed that in some ways the old Snape had been preferable—at least he was predictably angry all the time. The new Snape was harder to understand; one never knew what he was thinking.

Oblivious to and uncaring about the student population's musings, Hermione and Severus proceeded to Dumbledore's office rapidly. Within minutes they were seated before his desk, waiting patiently for him to complete whatever task he was engaged with. Finally, after Hermione thought she would burst from the tension, Dumbledore seated himself before them with a serious expression on his face. He looked tired and truly aged, as though he knew what news was coming.

"Miss Granger, I'm sorry you had to be involved in this," Dumbledore said gravely. "Can you both please tell me what happened?"

Snape gestured at Hermione to go first. She took a deep breath to organize her thoughts before beginning.

"Well, sir, I play the harp," she told him. "Regina, you may not know, was attempting to secure an artifact called an Amulet of Eternity." She pulled hers out from where it rested against her chest beneath her shirt. A quick movement unclasped it and she handed it to him. Dumbledore took it and held it for a moment, eyes closed.

"Yes, child, this is powerful indeed. And you were there when she tried to take this object?"

"Well, not exactly. You see the Amulet is awarded to someone in each generation. The holder is usually chosen by the previous holder of the Amulet but in this case, the previous holder had died before choosing a successor. So auditions of a sort were held, and Regina tried."

"As did you, I must assume," Dumbledore clarified.

"Yes," Hermione said, looking uncomfortable. "And I won it. At the party where it was to be given to me, Regina stole it from me. She wanted it so that she could go after the Chord of Dreams."

Albus processed this quickly before nodding. "I begin to see the grand picture, Miss Granger. She needed the Amulet to get the Chord, I presume. So you and Severus naturally went after her." He'd already registered that the Chord must be a bit of music and Hermione found herself once again impressed by the sheer intelligence of the man.

"Yes. And we managed to stop her before she got the Chord. However…sir…I…" she paused and closed her eyes for a moment, preparing herself to phrase this. No one spoke as she prepared herself.

She looked Dumbledore in the eye and spoke. "She attacked us and stabbed Professor Snape. I panicked and wasn't able to control my magic and the music's magic and I killed her. I'm so very sorry, sir," she finished miserably. "Her power just seemed to swell and Professor Snape was dying, and I freaked out."

Dumbledore looked tired and depressed but not surprised.

"I rather knew that either the pair of you would die or Regina would meet her end. I cannot say I would have the outcome be otherwise. Regina made her choices long ago, child. You were merely protecting yourself against a very powerful and very evil woman who would have killed you had she been given the chance. No, it was not your fault, Hermione, and do not trouble yourself about it too deeply."

Hermione nodded after a moment, looking unsure still.

"Go rest for awhile, Miss Granger. Severus can fill in the details of the story," Dumbledore said gently. She nodded and rose, exiting quickly.

Severus stared at Dumbledore. "Well I'm glad that what I said registered a bit, Albus," he said quietly.

Dumbledore gazed at him with infinite sadness. "You were right," he replied simply. "However what is right is not always what is easy to accept."

"Indeed," Snape agreed.

"It is unfortunate that the child will carry such unnecessary guilt," Albus said after a moment.

"I'd have been the one to do it but I was bleeding to death on the floor," Snape responded.

"It would have been equally unfortunate for you to carry the guilt, Severus."

"Perhaps I deserved the guilt," Snape countered. He raised his hand to silence Dumbledore before the older man could respond. "No, Albus, don't bother. Let us leave it there and move on."

Dumbledore nodded, resigned to the younger man's attitude and paid close attention as Snape began to detail the Chord and it's powers. It could never be used, but it was valuable information nonetheless.

* * *

Hermione, for her part, went straight to her room and sprawled on her bed, trying to process everything that had happened over the past few days. It was not easy. She'd killed Dumbledore and McGonagall's daughter and fallen for Severus Snape. Granted, she hadn't really fallen for him all that suddenly. If she was honest with herself, the attraction had been building for quite some time. She was so lost in thought that the knock on the door made her jump.

"Come in," she called.

Harry and Ron barreled into the room and jumped on her. Hermione squealed and laughed, hugging them both. The boys moved off to sit at the foot of the bed facing her.

"So is everything okay?" ventured Harry. "Dumbledore said something about your music teacher."

"Oh, um, yeah, it's fine. I just found out that he left me a harp in his will that's worth a lot of money and there was a bunch of legal and logistical stuff to deal with. He passed away about a year ago but his estate is still being handled. There's no real rush because the rest of his family isn't money-grubbing and his affairs were complicated." Hermione shrugged and grinned. It was a partial-truth. She somehow didn't think that Dumbledore would want even Harry to know too much about Regina.

"Anyways," she continued, "I'm back now."

"You must be bent out of joint that you missed out on classes," Ron teased.

"I suppose I'll just have to work harder to catch up," she sighed. Just as silence fell, her stomach growled.

"That's our cue to get dinner," Harry said cheerfully. Hermione nodded in agreement and they all proceeded down to the Great Hall together.

Dinner was the usual feast and Hermione ate and chatted with her friends, sticking with the harp story. It took great effort, but she only glanced at the Head Table once. Snape caught her eye and his expression softened slightly, but he did not smile. The encounter lasted only a split-second, but it made them both feel a bit better. Hermione remembered that they hadn't really arranged to meet or anything and she wasn't quite sure how to proceed.

After dinner, she followed Harry and Ron back to their common room and sat with them as they played chess. Both had curious questions about her harp.

"Well what does it look like?" Ron asked.

Hermione shrugged. "Dark wood, polished. The usual forty-seven strings. Very high-quality sheep's gut, actually." Ron made a face at this. "Blue-gold leafing on the baseboard with an absolutely gorgeous pattern that has musical notes and symbols woven into vines. Unearthly sound. Really beautiful. I don't know…what else? The column is fluted but pretty basic otherwise with the same vine and music pattern at the top."

"Wow," Harry breathed. "It sounds really nice. You must be really good for him to have left it to you."

"I think I just made an impression on him," Hermione demurred. "Anyways, I'm really tired—I think I'm going to call it a night, okay?"

"G'night, 'Mione," Ron replied as he destroyed Harry in their game.

"Goodnight, Ron. Goodnight, Harry," Hermione replied as she rose and left.

"You'll have to play for us one day," Harry called after her. Hermione waved her hand vaguely in response.

For the next few hours she waited, reading a book. He would contact her, she figured. She knew that he was hesitant about this fledgling relationship so she left it to him to take control of their first meeting. Besides, Severus Snape was not known for being shy.

At midnight, she finally faced the fact that he wasn't coming. For almost a half-hour, she berated herself for being such a fool; her anger and humiliation erased the memory of his assurances and affection from her mind. Determined not to stew, she left her room and hurried stealthily to the Room of Requirement. For a moment she considered whether she wanted a Snape-shaped punching bag or a harp sad enough to make angels cry. She settled on the harp. Her anger had been swept away by fear and sadness and rejection.

Hermione opened the door and stepped into the room. It was pitch black and empty but for the harp and a chair sitting in the middle illuminated by an unseen spotlight. She walked over and caressed the harp lovingly and sadly before sitting down and pulling it to her shoulders. Then she closed her eyes and began to play.

The anger washed through her first and she played a Rachmaninoff arrangement—rare to find in harpistry and one that she'd actually created herself. Her hands played fast, making the delicate but powerful instrument in her hands scream her anguish. Hermione let it pour through her, emotions intermingling into a confused, chaotic swirl. Anger that he'd lied; anger that he didn't love her; anger that she'd stupidly believed that he _could_ love her when all evidence pointed to the contrary. After all, even her own bloody parents couldn't love her! Her friends only liked her because she was the brains of the operation. Albus Dumbledore might've liked her but after she'd blown his daughter to hell, it was pretty bloody unlikely. There it was. She hadn't killed a Death Eater, she hadn't obliterated Voldemort himself: she'd killed someone's daughter, someone's lover, someone's student. A woman who'd been so consumed by her own gift and drive that even her father didn't grieve for her. _Your father wouldn't grieve for you,_ pointed out a traitorous voice in her head. _Neither would your mother. Your friends would grieve for the loss of their chance at passing school. Severus wouldn't grieve for you. Only Vasili would have grieved for you but he's dead isn't he? You're a damned fool for thinking someone could love you, you pathetic twit. No one grieved for the woman Regina might have been, not even you, and you're the one that killed her. You twisted bitch._

At that, she gave voice to the scream within her.

* * *

Severus, meanwhile, was a bit more patient. He gave up on Hermione at half-past midnight and decided to take matters into his own hands. He flooed to her quarters to find them empty. Mystified, he glanced around her chambers for any sort of a clue as to where she might be. Doubt began to creep into him. After all, he was a greasy ex-Death Eater who was hated by at least niney-nine percent of the wizarding world. It was rather silly to think that someone like Hermione Granger could possibly have any interest in him, wasn't it? He noted as he pondered that her covers were a bit mussed, as though she'd been laying atop them, and a book lay on the bed with a bookmark next to it. That indicated that she'd left quickly and not bothered to mark her place.

Severus frowned as he flooed back to his own quarters and entered the hallways. The simplest solution would be to find her. He rather suspected that he knew where she had gone. He tried to reserve judgment until he had a chance to speak to her but his mind insistently formulated the angry, cold, cutting words that would slice to her core and make her rue the day she had entered Hogwarts. He didn't deserve love or affection or happiness but he was damned well tired of other people rudely reminding him of that fact. He was tired of being reminded that he was unattractive and repugnant despite being a war hero and a generally accepted Good Man. He would have been content in his quiet life at Hogwarts, having experienced fame and adoration and realizing that he was better suited to solitude and intellectual pursuits, but _she_ had felt the need to burrow under his skin.

As he strode toward the Room of Requirement he forced himself to be honest: he'd wanted her to breach his walls and end his period of solitude. He loved her; it really was that simple. But Severus Snape had not lived this long without having a well-developed sense of self-preservation. It would take a lot of time and a LOT of whiskey, but he'd get over her one day.

At this, he realized that he was seriously jumping the gun, so to speak. She was quite probably overwhelmed and upset and they hadn't agreed upon a meeting tonight so he was letting his morbid imagination run away with him. He allowed himself a sardonic smile at his own silliness as he cast a charm to see the door to the Room. He let himself in quietly and was shocked into stillness at what he saw.

Hermione was playing a slower, softer song that seemed to speak of an infinite sadness. She was crying uncontrollably, eyes closed as she played almost unconsciously. The tune was hopeless and tragic and spoke of the unparalleled pain of knowing what happiness was but never having experienced it. It spoke of love seen but never felt. It spoke of a fantasy life of joy juxtaposed with a jaded existence filled with death and apathy. It was despair given voice.

Severus saw her entire body shaking and it snapped him into action. He strode to her and pushed the harp away with a feat of impressive strength. The instrument fell and cracked, column and baseboard splintering harshly but he paid it no mind. He pulled Hermione into his arms as he knelt and she fell against him, pulling them both to the floor. They sat there silently but for her sobbing and his gentle, soothing words. Severus shifted her properly into his lap and let her cry against him as he stroked her back and caressed her hair.

"I'm sorry," she whispered raggedly as the sobs subsided. He was confused for a moment and stiffened slightly but did not release her.

"I'm sure this isn't what you wanted to deal with," she continued. "I…just…"

"Hush, sweet. I'm here," he murmured to her gently. "There is no need to apologize. I adore you, sweet. I shan't leave you for any reason." His tone was gentler than any who had ever known him could have imagined.

"I know," she mumbled.

Severus focused on a fireplace with floo and floo powder and they appeared on the wall behind the shattered harp. The light extended to form a path from where they sat halfway in the darkness to the fireplace. He stood quickly and fluidly, carrying Hermione in his arms and strode toward the fireplace.

"I can walk," she offered, but her body was still trembling and Severus simply hugged her more tightly against his body. Hermione wrapped her arms around him and buried her face against his neck, breathing in the scent of him and letting it comfort her.

Severus shifted her weight and managed to toss the floo powder in, giving the destination as his quarters and providing the password before stepping in the fire.

Hermione felt the jolt as they landed in his fireplace and he stepped out. The sadness had subsided, leaving the dull ache of desire. She wanted to feel alive; she wanted confirmation of his love. She wanted to claim him completely, but what did _he_ want? She kissed his neck gently, tentatively, and heard his sharp breath.

Severus sat on his chaise and forced himself to breathe and speak. "Hermione, sweet, what happened?"

"I just got overwhelmed by everything," she said after a moment, resting her cheek against his chest and listening to his heartbeat. It was strong and steady. "I felt so much all at once. I was sad and angry and hopeless…sometimes that happens, especially if I've had to kill someone. It seems to just mix in with all the other things in my life and wreak havoc." She blushed, embarrassed by her lack of control. For a moment she was sure that he would deride her but she banished the thought from her mind.

"I love you, Hermione," he said out of the blue. Hermione pulled away to look him in the eye, surprised by his sudden outburst.

"When I saw you in there looking so fragile and broken, I…I was afraid for you. It terrified me," he confessed with difficulty. "I would not wish for you to think that I did not care. I would never want to contribute to that pain."

"I love you too, Severus. I bloody well love you," she said fiercely, and kissed him.

The taste of her assaulted him and made him want to consume her. Severus wrapped his arms around her as her fingers tangled in her hair and she moved to straddle him. His hands stroked up her back beneath her shirt but moved no further, taking it as slowly as possible. Hermione, for her part, removed her fingers from his hair and set to work on his shirt after tugging his robe and vest open.

Severus caught her hands. "Hermione," he murmured gently, kissing her chastely on the lips. "Hermione, we should not move too quickly."

"I swear, Severus, if you stop I will be forced to hurt you," she growled. "I want this. I want _you_. You're mine."

"Yes," he agreed, "I'm yours. But I can wait for—"

"Well I'm glad one of us can wait but that's really not necessary. Now help me with this damned shirt." She'd pulled her hands out of his grasp and was attacking the buttons on his shirt once more.

"If you are certain," he said softly.

"I am," she insisted.

He stood swiftly and carried her to the bedroom in response. Her permission relieved him; her enthusiasm intoxicated him. He set her down on his bed and pulled her shirt over her head. He tossed it across the room and kissed her breastbone. Hermione sighed softly in response as she finished with his shirt and pushed the lot of his outerwear off his body. Another quick move had his pants around his ankles. Severus stepped out of his pants, toeing off his shoes and socks quickly. His erection was visible through his boxers and Hermione took in the sight of his naked body with a slight smile. He stepped between her legs and let his large hands caress her skin, feeling every inch of exposed skin before unclasping her bra and cupping her breasts in his hands. His thumbs stroked her nipples gently and Hermione let out a whimper as she arched toward him.

"Oh, Severus."

"You're exquisite, sweet," he rumbled. His voice was low and silky. She smiled brilliantly at him.

"Only for you," she murmured, pulling him down for a kiss.

"Yes," he agreed. His hands set to work on her jeans, sliding them down her hips and off her body. He tugged off her shoes and socks as well, letting his fingers trail along her skin. She shivered and his dark eyes glanced up at her, smouldering. Hermione was reminded of the moment in the car when she'd removed her sweater and shirt. His eyes were a slow burn, igniting every inch of her body.

"Severus," she whispered. "God, I want you so bloody much," she groaned.

Severus looked up at her and a smile graced his features. It was not feral or fearsome or smug or wry or sardonic; no, his smile was gentle and pure but somehow rusty, as though rarely used.

Once again his eyes darkened as he knelt between her legs and sucked gently on her inner thighs, marking her as his fingertips stroked the skin behind her knees. He nuzzled his face into her pussy and licked at her through the thin satin fabric of her panties. Hermione arched and let out a sound somewhere between a sigh and a moan. It shot through Severus, blowing each of his synapses individually. With a growl he ripped her panties off and feasted on the hot, wet heat between her thighs. Hermione screamed as his tongue and lips and teeth explored her, alternating between possessive aggressiveness and slow gentleness. He stroked her with his tongue, steadily building the climax within her. Hermione's hands clawed at the bedsheets as she let out inarticulate sounds.

Finally she gasped, "Severus, please!"

"Please what, sweet?" he asked between licks.

"Make love to me, Severus" she hissed, her hands gripping his shoulders to pull him up her body. "Shag me, do me, fuck me," she growled urgently.

He kissed her as he crawled up her body. As soon as he was positioned over her he kissed her on the lips. He let out a ragged groan as she sucked on his lower lip, tasting herself on him. Hermione let out a breathless laugh.

"Severus," she murmured against his lips.

"Hermione," he whispered in return as he thrust into her. Hermione threw her head back and cried out. Her hands clutched at his back and her legs wrapped around his hips to give him more access.

Severus withdrew and thrust again, letting his pelvis thrust against her clit. Their rhythm evened out as Hermione met his thrusts. They panted and moaned and whimpered and cried out as they lost themselves in one another's bodies. After several moments, their pace began to increase and before long they had spiraled into their orgasms almost simultaneously, their cries echoing through the bedroom.

"You're so beautiful," he whispered against her damp chest. He licked the salt of her sweat from her skin and sucked on the side of her breast. "So wonderful," he murmured as he pulled her into his arms and swept the covers over their cooling bodies.

"Thank you, Severus," she mumbled into his collarbone. "Thank you for loving me…for making love to me."

"Hush, sweet. There's nothing to thank me for. Sleep now, my love. Sleep in my arms."

"I want to stay here forever," she confessed sleepily. "But tonight will have to do." She yawned and wrapped her arms around him tightly as she fell asleep. He kissed the top of her head as he drifted as well, grateful to the universe for finally showing him a bit of joy.


	16. Chapter 15

Okay, so I've been gone so long that I can't even do my normal shout-outs. I would however like to thank Avery Goodun for being the motivation to finally put up the last two chapters of this story. Work kinda took over my life and I left this fic hanging for quite some time. My apologies to everyone. Endless and eternal gratitude to Avery for reminding me that I never finished this! I hope everyone enjoys. As always I own nothing, this is not literary genius, and I'd really adore you if you left me some love.

Again, please note that this story does not follow with the events of HBP. Suspend reality for the next two chapters.

--aimes

* * *

Severus woke and looked down at the woman in his arms. Hermione was snuggled against him, face against his chest, curly hair spilling riotously onto his torso. He hazarded a glance at the clock, which told him that it was six o'clock in the morning. Severus sighed, knowing that he had to start preparing for classes by seven-thirty. He stroked Hermione's shoulder gently. 

"Sweet? Wake up, sweet," he murmured in a low, soothing voice. Hermione stirred and mumbled something in her sleep. He stroked her shoulder again and she kissed his chest before burying her face in his chest.

"We should get up, Hermione, before people realize that you are missing. Wake up, sweet," he said cajolingly. Hermione started as she woke and lifted her head.

"What?"

The vaguely confused, dreamy expression on her face as the sleep lingered in her eyes made him smile. He pulled her down for a kiss without a second thought. Hermione sighed contentedly as she kissed him in return. After a moment they broke their embrace and Hermione rolled off him. She yawned and stretched before getting out of bed. Severus watched her for a moment, arms crossed behind his head. His brow furrowed as she grimaced.

"What's wrong?" he asked with a somewhat concerned frown.

"Just a bit sore, that's all," she replied with a smile. She came around to his side of the bed and leaned over to give him another kiss. His hands looped around her waist and he smiled as she kissed him.

"I have a potion that will get rid of the soreness," he told her, rising with her as she pulled away.

"No, thanks."

"What?" he couldn't hide the surprise on his face. Why wouldn't she want to rid herself of pain?

Hermione blushed slightly. "Well I'm not _that_ sore…and…well…I'm going to be an indulgent female and hang onto last night for the rest of the day. I'll probably even daydream at odd moments." Her voice was defensive and she waited for the ridicule. Her reasoning sounded silly even to her. When he started laughing she waged an internal battle between wanting to crawl under a rock and wanting to smack him so hard he saw next week. Severus put his arms around her, still chuckling and she shrugged him off, shooting him a glare.

"You're beautiful when you laugh, but not when you're laughing at me," Hermione growled.

"I'm not laughing at you, sweet. I was just wondering why you would want so desperately to hold on to last night when we have tonight. And tomorrow night," he continued as he advanced a step, "and the night after that." He was now looming over her. "And many more nights to come," he finished, voice low and sweet and seductive. Hermione felt a shiver run through her.

"I should shower and go back to my rooms. My friends will expect me for breakfast," Hermione said reluctantly.

"Yes," Severus agreed. "I shall see you later, I'm sure," he said kissing her on the lips gently.

"Severus…is it right that you still control one of my grades and we're…involved?" The thought had only just occurred to her.

"Your grade this term will be based on your NEWT exams, Hermione, there is no need to worry. As is my custom, I will merely average it with your grade from last term to determine your final grade. In some instances, a student's thesis project can be sufficiently extraordinary for me to ignore their NEWT score or their grade from last term. I doubt it will be an issue in your case, as your grade last term was excellent and you've no need to worry about the NEWT. You could quite likely pass it with your eyes closed considering that you've been reviewing all year."

Hermione smiled wryly. "I guess it would amuse you to know that I still feel the need to study."

"No, you remind me of someone I knew," he responded fondly. He kissed her forehead and Hermione grabbed some floo powder and returned to her room. Severus smiled before going to the bathroom to shower and get ready for the day.

Hermione arrived in her rooms with a grunt and dusted herself off. She smiled as she stepped out of her fireplace, a satisfied, goofy, slap-happy expression, but the grin faded as she saw three people sitting on her bed, blank-faced. Ron, Harry, and Ginny sat in a row, arms crossed. Ginny raised an eyebrow expectantly.

"I can explain," Hermione said, hands raised placatingly. She wasn't exactly sure what she was going to say but that seemed to be a good start.

"No need," Harry said after scrutinizing her. "Ginny had that same expression the first time we shagged. So all we have to do is look for a guy with the same expression I had."

"Or we could do this the easy way and you could tell us," Ron suggested. "That way we could break his knees before breakfast and call it a day."

"Hush, Ron," Ginny chided. "There's no rule that says Hermione's got to be celibate, is there? _We're_ all enjoying ourselves sexually. Well, Harry and I are and I can't speak for you."

Harry and Ron both blushed bright red. "Ginny," Ron said firmly, "please never, ever, _ever_, speak of your sex life to me again. Ever. Please."

"That doesn't erase the question of who it is," Ginny continued, ignoring Ron's comment completely.

"You guys won't be happy if I tell you," Hermione responded quietly. She was calculating the distance between herself and the door, as well as the likelihood that she'd make it out of this without telling them. And barring that, the likelihood that she and Severus would survive if she told them. Neither sets of calculations were going her way.

"No," Harry responded flatly, "I don't expect we would. I rather think I know who it is. I just want to hear it from you." His voice was low and, Hermione imagined, cold.

"Severus Snape," she said faintly in the face of three hard faces.

Ron howled angrily and Ginny started laughing. Hermione was dumbfounded and looked to Harry to make sense of it.

"Thanks, 'Mione," he said, grinning. "You just won me thirty galleons."

"Thirty gall—you've been betting on my _sex life_!" she screeched. Ginny was now laughing so hard she couldn't breathe.

Ron shrugged sullenly. "Well it's been sort of obvious that you have a soft spot for the git. Since the war, I mean. You're nicer to him than we are. And he's not liable to lash out at you almost ever. Actually, I haven't seen him yell at you in a long time. And Merlin knows he's not reluctant to yell at us. But I didn't think you were _shagging_ him, for Circe's sake!"

"So the bet wasn't about whether we were interested, it was about whether we were shagging?" Hermione clarified.

"Yeah. Harry said you were and Ron said you weren't because you're too uptight about rules and stuff. Besides, I didn't think you two had expressed your interest to one another," Ginny said, catching her breath and wiping tears from her eyes. "Does Dumbledore know?"

"No," Hermione said fiercely, "And you three have got to keep it quiet! He'll get sacked and I'll get expelled."

"Relax, 'Mione, we're not going to say anything," Harry assured her. "For one thing, none of us wants to face you and Snape together—we can barely handle you when you're angry. We wouldn't survive the combination. Besides, I don't think Dumbledore cares. All he talks about these days is how he wishes Snape could find some happiness. And there are heavy hints that I should talk to you about how lonely Snape is. Dumbledore can be hard to understand sometimes but he's as transparent as Scotch tape about this."

There was silence and Hermione assumed that Ron and Ginny were as stupefied by this revelation as she. Her overloaded brain struggled to process what Harry was saying.

Ron broke the silence first. "What's Scotch tape?"

Hermione groaned. "Will you three get out so I can shower? I'll meet you in the Great Hall for breakfast. I think Severus and I need to come clean with the Headmaster, considering what you've said, Harry. But that's not important right now…I really need to clean myself up."

Ron and Harry made disgusted faces as they left hurriedly. Ginny took her time.

"I expect details, you know," she tossed back casually as she left. She winked and shut the door before Hermione could hex her.

Hermione took a fast shower and dressed, mentally marveling at how quickly life seemed to be moving lately. Breakneck speed and then some. It was odd how life was calm and average for such a long while and then a million things happened at once. It was like some conspiracy of the universe to see how good one was at fielding the unexpected. With a brief shake of her head she grabbed her school bag and ran down to breakfast.

Ginny moved over to make space for Hermione as she joined them, grabbing a muffin and some orange juice as she sat. Everyone greeted her before returning to their previous conversations. Hermione nibbled at her muffin and half-listened to Ron and Neville arguing about something Quidditch related. Ginny, she vaguely noted, was giving Luna tips on attractive robe styles and colors. She glanced over at the Slytherin table and Blaise gave her a quick wave. She waved in return and grinned when Pansy stuck her tongue out playfully and made a possessive 'mine' gesture over Blaise. Hermione took a breath and hazarded a glance up at the Head Table. Snape was listening distractedly to Sprout as he scribbled on a piece of parchment. Hermione guessed it was his planned lessons for the day. She hadn't really given any time to collect himself and she somewhat suspected that his shower had been almost as cold as her own. Dumbledore was silent and looked a bit worn down still, however there was a suspicious twinkle in his eye. McGonagall was completely absent and Hermione flinched, knowing she would eventually have to speak to her Head of House.

But before all that happened, she decided, she needed to speak to Severus about revealing their relationship to Dumbledore. With that decisive thought, Hermione returned her attention to breakfast.

The day went quickly and Hermione was grateful for it. She had been concerned that Potions class might be awkward, but had failed to remember that Severus Snape was one of the best spies in the history of the wizarding world. If she wasn't still sore, even she might not have known what they had been doing last night. She tried hard not to let her mind wander as she helped Blaise flesh out some of the patchier spots in his final project.

Finally, eventually, the day ended. She'd made it through the staff/prefect meeting and pleaded exhaustion when a group of Gryffindors tried to talk her into a game of exploding snap. She retired to her room, set the wards, and flooed to Snape's quarters. He glanced up from the text he was reading with a slight smile.

"I rather thought you'd come later."

"Just couldn't stay away," she replied lightly. "Besides, we need to talk."

He raised an eyebrow and mentally reflected that the phrase she had chosen was one dreaded by Muggle men and wizards alike.

"I think maybe we should come clean to Dumbledore. Recent conversations have led me to believe that he might not be averse to our…relationship."

"So he talked to you too."

"Pardon?" Hermione looked at him as though he'd grown a second head. "Who talked to me?"

"You mean you didn't speak to Albus? Because he called me into his office and told me that he was aware of our relationship. He also said that while he would have preferred to hear it from my own lips, he was not at all angry. Beyond recommending that we not advertise it to the world, he didn't have much to say beyond congratulations."

"What the hell? I didn't tell him. And you obviously didn't tell him. So who did?" Hermione let her nerves take over for a moment and she began to pace in front of him. After letting her vent her nervous energy for a moment, Severus snagged her mid-pace and pulled her into his lap. Hermione let out an annoyed grunt but relaxed against him nonetheless.

"I'm really confused," she confessed.

"I'm rather mystified myself," he agreed. "However, I can fix that."

He snapped his fingers and Dobby appeared. "Dobby, summon Headmaster Dumbledore, please," he requested.

"Of course, sir," Dobby replied, disappearing instantly.

"You're more polite than most when it comes to house elves," Hermione observed.

"He used to be enslaved to the Malfoys," Severus responded quietly. "I know how he was treated before he came here. I rather respect Dobby, annoying as he is."

"I think he's fond of you too." Hermione kissed him on the nose before struggling to her feet and relocating to the couch.

"It's rather bad taste to be all over each other when the man just lost his daughter," Hermione pointed out. Severus nodded his agreement.

They were silent for a moment, lost in their thoughts, and both were a bit startled by the older wizard's arrival by floo.

"Hello Severus, hello Hermione," Dumbledore greeted. "You asked Dobby to summon me?"

"Please, sit, Headmaster," Hermione said warmly, making room for him on the couch. He sat at a slight angle and reclined into the cushions, facing them.

"So who told you, Albus?" Severus asked flatly. "It wasn't me and it wasn't Hermione."

"No one _told_ me, Severus, though I rather wish you two had felt comfortable enough to bring it up first. It was simply obvious to me from the way you looked at one another. And from the way you looked in general, Severus. As though you were almost happy?" he teased.

"Very happy, thank you," Snape retorted. "And you can't blame us for being wary of revealing our relationship to anyone, even you. Besides," his voice softened, "we were already bringing such awful news."

Albus looked away for a moment but returned his gaze to Severus and Hermione quickly and said firmly: "You brought me closure. I would rather know that she is gone than not know where she was and what she might be going through. The agony of not knowing is even worse than the pain of complete loss. Minerva is, naturally, taking it quite hard. But even she is grateful that she finally knows the fate of her daughter. And we are both heartened by the thought that two more of our precious children have found joy."

He stood. "Besides, you are no more scandalous than Minerva and I were when we first announced our romantic entanglement." He smiled fondly at the memory. "Indeed, I rather think your age difference is modest. And I intended to offer Hermione the Arithmancy position in a few years' time after Professor Sinistra had retired into the life of travel and research she covets. I shall simply offer her an apprenticeship to qualify her as a Mistress of Arithmancy. When you feel suitably trained, Hermione, I will allow Professor Sinistra an early retirement free of the guilt of leaving me without a qualified replacement."

Hermione's mouth was gaping but she shut it quickly. "Thank you, Headmaster!"

"Things tend to work out as they should in the end, Hermione, if you give it a little time and allow your friends to lend a helping hand." He turned toward the floo but was stopped by Severus' hand on his shoulder. Albus turned to look at the younger man and was amazed at the emotions that ran freely through his eyes. It was a rare display of openness from a closed and reserved man.

"Thank you, Albus," Severus said quietly. Albus nodded silently. He grabbed a handful of floo powder and prepared to toss into the fire. Before he did, he turned to look at them once more.

Severus stood with his arm around Hermione and she in turn was leaning into his side.

"Very few people get the chance at happily ever after, my young friends. Hang onto it with all your might."

With that, he tossed in the floo powder, called out his destination, and left. Hermione and Severus simply stared into the flickering fire for several long minutes after he'd disappeared and the fire had gone from green back to orange.

Almost as one, they went to Severus' bedroom, extinguishing the lights along the way. When they reached their destination, Severus took his time slowly undressing Hermione and she willingly returned the favor. They made love slowly and passionately and when they were finished, Hermione lay in Severus' arms and let herself revel in the absolute perfection to be found in his arms.

So many roads traveled, so many twists and turns, and she had ended up in the last place she would have expected. She felt Severus' hand stroking her hip as he dozed. The last place she would have expected and the best place in the universe, she decided. This really was happily ever after.

And she was damned lucky to have it.


	17. Epilogue

**Epilogue:**

Hermione adjusted her dress and took a deep breath. Her nerves were about to leave her in a puddle somewhere in the middle of the aisle. One more deep breath, a smoothing of her dress, and she began the slow rhythmic steps in time with the music that would lead her to the end of the aisle, where Dumbledore was standing, watching her like a benevolent father.

She reached the end of the carpet and stepped aside. She really wasn't sure why she was so nervous—it wasn't _her_ wedding. She supposed she was nervous on Ginny's behalf. Luna stepped up beside her, as did the other bridesmaids. Hermione decided that being the maid of honor was nerve-wracking. Not only was she responsible for making sure that the bachelorette party went off without a hitch (it did) but she rather felt responsible for making this entire day go perfectly. She took her eyes off a radiant Ginny just long enough to send Harry a smile of encouragement, which he received gratefully. Ron was gaping at Ginny from his place near Harry as the best man. Severus stood across from her and down one step. He knew how nervous she was and sent her a small smile to reassure her. At the reception, Luna and Hermione would switch escorts to make everyone happy. Hermione had also been asked to play a few selections at the reception, a sort of mini-concert that she'd agreed to after a long pep talk from Severus about how she would not mangle her best friends' wedding even if she played disastrously. Which, he pointed out, was so unlikely as to be laughable anyways.

Ginny reached the end of the aisle, took her place beside her groom, and waited for Albus to speak.

As Harry and Ginny took their vows, Hermione fiddled with the engagement ring on her own hand and let a dreamy smile wash over her face as she thought about her own impending wedding. They intended to elope to Venice and spend some time on the coast of Italy for their honeymoon, a fantasy of Hermione's that Severus had been more than willing to oblige.

Happily ever after indeed.

* * *

A/N:

I'd like to take this opportunity to thank everyone who has left reviews for this story! I apologize for the long lapse between chapters 14 and 15. I truly hope you had some fun with this fic...please feel free to review!

--aimes


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